Our Greatest Secret
by Fen Jien Ren
Summary: Grimmjow offered to teach Ulquiorra one thing he thought he already knew--LOVE. But does Aizen approves of this? GrimmUlqui, one-sided AizenUlqui.
1. First Secret

**TITLE:** Our Greatest Secret  
**ANIME: **Bleach  
**DISCLAIMERS:** Tite Kubo owns Bleach and all its characters.

**SUMMARY:** Grimmjaw offers to teach Ulquiorra the things that the Cuatra regarded as unnecessary.  
**WARNINGS:** Yaoi, lemon, unintentional OOC-ness, and unbeta-ed chapters.  
**PAIRING/S and CHARACTERS: **GrimmUlquiorra, Ichimaru Gin, Sousuke Aizen

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Guys, this is my second Bleach fic (first one was GrimmIchi which was a request), but I'm still not that familiar with the characters. Honestly, I haven't watched the anime, yet. I'm reading the manga, but I still can't grasp the way they speak. Please, do alert me of too much OOC-ness. I'd try my best to keep them the way they really are. Reviews will be loved. Enjoy!

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**CHAPTER ONE**

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"Aizen-sama asked for you… Ul-qui-or-ra!" The familiar voice childishly said, putting great emphasis in every syllable that there was on the man's name, and it echoed… the coldness and deep threat hidden somewhere in every syllable that passed through his lips echoed throughout the ever so empty halls of Las Noches, the ivory walls reflecting the brilliant timbre of the ex-captain shinigami's voice. Those who heard can only imagine how forbidding the unemotional smile the man wore this time, and they can only be thankful they weren't the one who was approached.

No words of reply came, instead, there were foot steps that filled every ear that paid attention. There was no surprise to it, though. The cuatro Espada had never been a man of many words. You could get a 'yes' or 'no' once in a while, but it's mostly the only thing you could get out of the said Espada, especially if he had categorized you as a trash.

"You're ready this time… aren't you?"

No answer again, just blunt foot steps. A knob was turned, a door was opened with a thrilling creak, and then the foot steps continued once more. Blue eyes rolled, following the bodies in white disappearing through the flap. The taller figure stopped, and locked gazes with him. His snow white hair flowed back as if a wind had just blew, and it showed more of the man's face than what was usually exposed. The Sexta's eyes twitched in annoyance. He never liked this man, and he knew he never will.

Ichimaru Gin's eyes grew smaller as his smile went wider. "Seen something ya like, Grimmjaw?"

He snorted, turning his head away with a scowl. "Nah."

"Good." The silver-haired spirit turned towards the door, his smile unwavering, and watched the fragile form of the cuatro Espada shrunk from his sight as he neared his destination. At some point, the fox shinigami learned to admire the loyalty, then soon and after, he developed pity. No one else knew the things that he did, except of course the people involved, and for that, sometimes he wished he knew less. "I wouldn't wanna see you fall so vainly. Aizen-sama is pretty possessive with his toys, you know?"

His blue short brows furrowed and followed his superior as he walked away. "What?" He asked to himself, despite knowing he wouldn't get any answer at all. He knew that man loved to play games and riddles, and he knew that's the very reason why he hated the man. The seis Espada closed his eyes and strolled away from the site, heading to his always cold room.

"Crazy asshole." He huffed as he kicked his door shut. He turned around and slid his hands to his pockets and walked to his bed. He sighed and threw himself to it, landing on his stomach. It had been such a dull day, and he hoped it wouldn't get any worse. He stretched his hand to the side and grasped as much cloth he could in his hand, "I don't give shit about that bastard."

Yeah, he doesn't. Of course, he doesn't.

"What the hell?" Grimmjaw shot up, realizing he had fallen asleep. He groaned and rubbed the back of his head, crawling to the center of the bed and lied back down. He shifted the pillow under his head and closed his eyes, hoping to get back to the dream that caught his curiosity. It wasn't anything special, but it was better than walking around Las Noches. He sighed and turned to his side.

Stealth hands of lethargy were finally reaching for him, and he was eager to take it. He reached for it, hoping to get back from where he was woken up, but the opportunity was snatched yet again by the sound of something pounding on his door.

"Damn it!" He snarled, flipping up and throwing his pillow to the door. He stomped to it and pulled the door open, almost taking it from its hinges. He was ready to kill anyone knocking on his door, whoever it may be, but nobody was there… and that simply angered him more.

Somebody whispered. "Quiet… don't… wake… shh…"

Grimmjaw stepped out of his room and turned to where he thought he heard it. When he saw no one, he groaned and realized it was his feline abilities kicking. Damn his ability to hear sharper than anyone ever could. He was about to walk back to his room and try to ignore the pounding sounds and…

"Ai-aiz-zennngghhh…s-sama-ah!"

He froze. _W-what the hell was that?!_ Grimmjaw turned to where the sounds were coming from. Who was he kidding? He knew that voice. He would never mistake that from somebody else's. Though reluctant, the seis Espada decided to know what was happening. He wondered why he wanted to know, but soon, he simply blamed it on his boredom. _It's better than sleeping_, he told himself.

The pounding sound grew louder and so did t-the… _Is that bastard moaning? What the hell is happening!?_

"A-aizen-s-sama… p-please. Nghh…"

Grimmjaw stopped on one corner, his instinct telling him that it was the farthest he could go undetected. He leaned back to the ivory walls, and felt it barely shaking. His eyes grew wide upon realization. Well, it wasn't like he didn't have the slightest idea what could be happening, he just didn't want to believe it. The sounds he heard, it was giving one clear message, but Grimmjaw somehow wanted to put doubt on it. His stomach turned when he lost the power to have second thoughts about it.

The wall stopped shaking. "Were you expecting an audience, Ulquiorra?" Aizen's gentle voice resounded, but everyone knew what lies beneath was far from what it portrayed. He became a captain of Gotei 13, and now, their lord, for a reason. No one can lose sight of the power behind those eyes, and no one can ever take that smile as something warm and sweet.

_Shit!_ Grimmjaw tensed.

"N-no, I… I a-am not, Aizen-s-sama." The Cuatra weakly replied, his hands desperately gripping at the invisible handles on the wall to keep himself from falling back to his lord or to the ground. He pressed his head against the wall and took the chance to catch his breath. He closed his eyes, hoping it would take him anywhere else than where he really was at the moment. His cold and sturdy defences were broken along with his tattered ivory coat. He didn't care anymore whom the man referred to as the 'audience'. There was nothing he could do. Escaping was simply impossible.

"Not an audience, hm? What about another participant?"

His eyes shot open with a sharp gasp, but he had no choice. He had no other option but to obey. It was to prove his loyalty and strength. Ulquiorra shook his head slowly and replied with as much courage he could muster at his current state, "N-no, Aizen-sama." He squeezed his eyes shut again and desperately tried to fight the sobs climbing up his throat and the tears forming in the corner of his eyes, which was, for the first time, successful.

"But you wouldn't mind, do you?"

_This is a test of loyalty… loyalty to our lord, to Aizen-sama. _Ulquiorra told himself and replied again, "No, Aizen-sama."

The ex-shinigami captain reached for the Arrancar's pale face and trapped it on a firm grip and pulled it towards him. "I'm glad." He whispered to the man's pale lips and then devoured it with a fiery kiss. "Come forth… Sexta."

Grimmjaw stepped out of his hiding with his hands on his pockets and a scowl on his face. He looked at Ulquiorra who was free from his hakama and was pressed on his stomach against the wall. When the cuatro Espada gazed at him, his taut exterior crumbled. He never thought those green eyes could ever show anything but a reflection of what it was looking at, but now, there it was, showing the frailness of the man who owned it. The seis Espada's jaw jammed and hung open at such a sight.

Aizen stretched out a hand. "Come closer, Grimmjaw."

The teal-haired Espada brought himself together and walked towards them; his eyes not leaving _his_ lord. He didn't know what to say, so he simply kept his mouth shut and just stopped when he was just a foot away from the two.

The ex-shinigami captain gently pulled out from the pale Espada, who fell down to his knees from the moment the contact was broken, and turned to the lower-ranked while fixing his lower clothing. "Would you like some indulgence to yourself, Sexta?" He asked, pointed his hand to the panting man on the ground. "Or would you like to share it?"

Grimmjaw cocked his head to the side. "Sorry. Not really interested."

"Hm?" Aizen raised a brow. "I believe that wasn't one of the options given."

_Loyalty… my loyalty to Aizen-sama._ Ulquiorra stared at the limbs that failed to keep him standing. He didn't blame them, though. He knew how bad really the situation he was in, and the sight of blood and some white thick liquid that trailed down his inner thighs just mocked him about it. The Cuatra closed his eyes and sighed, leaning comfortably on the wall which was also stained with his lord's 'trial of loyalty', but he could always care less. Because if there was anything he was really good at, it would be pretending he didn't care about anything at all.

Grimmjaw looked down at his superior who was raggedly running after his breath. It was the first time he saw him so deranged like this, and he would be lying if he said he didn't care or wasn't even interested. The Sexta was. It was because the sight of it gave life to something inside him. When those green eyes looked his way, he felt something in him turn… or surge throughout his body. There was something, and he took it as disgust. His eyes grew slender, still staring at the cuatro Espada, and wanted to just spit something in his face and say: 'Who's the trash now?' but he couldn't. He didn't know why, but he simply froze there, savouring the sight of his superior looking so vulnerable.

"Ulquiorra," Aizen called with a cold smile and stretched a hand towards him.

The Cuatra looked up with parted lips and frailly took the hand offered to him by his lord. He stood up gently and leaned at Aizen's welcoming arms.

"Are you up for another test, Ulquiorra?" He whispered on ear as he played with his _child_'s dark hair.

Grimmjaw saw that frail body tense and shake, it was impossible not to see. He gritted his teeth, annoyed with the ex-shinigami captain's behavior. Aizen was treating Ulquiorra like trash, and he hated being treated like trash. He never did, but he somehow grew to tolerate the Cuatra treating him that way, but not someone else. He hated the display of superiority this palpable, and at this very moment, Grimmjaw wished he just had the strength to really rip the man apart.

"Yes, Aizen-sama." The dark-haired Espada replied and looked down, not wanting to meet anyone else's sight.

He smiled, "Help me enterta—"

"I'll take him." Grimmjaw said abruptly. He didn't miss when that smile disappeared on Aizen's lips. The _lord_ didn't seem to have expected his answer, and that made him feel like he won. A grin was fighting its way on his lips, but he fought it off. He knew he shouldn't, at least, not in front of the man. He wasn't crossing the line, was he? He didn't want to lose his arm again for disobeying him. "That's one of your options, isn't it? I'll take him alone."

"Very well."

"Thanks," The seis Espada snatched the Cuatra from their superior's arms and the man's discarded pants on the floor, "Aizen-_sama._" He dragged Ulquiorra with him, and stopped on the corner he stood before he was caught and dressed the silent man up.

Grimmjaw continued to drag the dark-haired man away from Aizen and towards his room. He didn't hear any complaints from the man behind him, but it was no surprise. When they got to his room, he kicked it open, moved in, and slammed it shut. The teal-haired Espada threw his superior to his bed like he was some kind of baggage, but he didn't follow him on it. He just stood by the door, waiting for any response the other might give.

Ulquiorra sat up on the edge of the bed and simply stared back at the Sexta. Weakly, his fingers reached up to the zipper of his coat and slowly pulled it down, shedding it and putting it down to the ground. He struggled to stand, holding to the bed frame for support, and started taking off his pants much to Grimmjaw's surprise.

The teal-haired Espada stepped forward and caught the other's pale wrists. "Don't strip naked, ya shit. Keep them on."

The cuatro Espada just stared back at him.

Grimmjaw froze when those eyes met his again, and for some reason, they were not the same. Those eyes were empty again, much like just a simple mirror reflecting his own. Where did the man he wanted to save go? Where were those demoralizing emotions that he saw? Did they leave with Aizen? But why would they? That man had only hurt him. Why would Ulquiorra show his emotions to the one that hurt him, and not to the one that saved him? Was he that different from them? Was he that hard to read and understand? "Geez," The Sexta sighed and released his superior. "You are so fucked up."

"I'm sure everyone else would say so," Ulquiorra rubbed his wrist. "Although, I believe you did the most interesting way of putting it into words."

"No shit." The seis Espada furrowed his brows, stealing a glance at his superior, and then looked away. He slid his hands to his pockets, grunting; very frustrated that he didn't acquire what he hoped to get from the start. He just wanted… no, needed to see those eyes again. He didn't bother himself anymore to dig up for some reason, he just needed to, and that was all that mattered to him at the moment. "Ya can leave now."

Ulquiorra stared at him, not holding any emotions on his face.

He turned back to him, feeling uneasy with those eyes staring heavily at him. "What?" He snarled.

"You have taken me from Aizen-sama for such a pointless discussion?"

"Hey," he stepped forward, glaring at the smaller man. "I saved your ass back there."

The green-eyed Espada inclined his head to meet the taller man standing just a few inches away from him. He wasn't going to grant the inferior being the satisfaction of intimidating him. "I don't remember needing to be saved… much less asking for it." The man before him was trash, despite how tall he was. Ulquiorra could compare him to Yami, though he could say he liked him better than Grimmjaw. It was simply because the large man exactly knew where he stood, while this man before the Cuatra didn't, and he doubted he never will.

"Oh, I get it." He leaned down closer, glaring intensely at his superior, their noses almost touching. "You're willingly swaying your ass up high in the air, asking to get fucked, just because that bastard told ya so? You're crazy!"

"For Aizen-sama." He closed his eyes, showing his sincerity in doing so, and lowered his head to its average height. "Though, I doubt someone as foolish as you are would even know, much less understand what loyalty is."

"That's it!" He growled, ripping his jacket off, and pushed the smaller man back to his bed. "You're really gonna get it now!"

Grimmjaw crawled over Ulquiorra, determined actually to hurt the man lying beneath him. He growled, replaying in his mind what he could do to etch this day on his superior's brain, and that every time they would meet, the seis Espada could smug at the evident effect of work. He wanted to see those emotions overflowing from those large green eyes again. He wanted to see him writhe from his hands. He would destroy him, and he will. He will break the cuatro Espada.

The teal-haired Espada looked down to his prey. He froze.

Ulquiorra stared back at him, rewarding him the sight that he so much wanted to see: the eyes that showed emotions. Pain was trapped inside those green orbs, Grimmjaw managed to make note of it. At the same time, his every plan of destroying the smaller man collapsed, leaving him defenceless and his heart beating fast and hard.

"D-don't stare at me like that, ya basard!" He felt his face heat up. He grinded his teeth and looked away, trying to look annoyed.

The cuatro Espada did not blink and undeniably caught the other's face turn read. He lifted his hand and touched the exposed cheek, pulling it gently.

The taller man followed the lead of the pale hands, the same eyes that made him somehow nervous welcoming him. Grimmjaw took a deep breath in, slowly parting his lips and leaning down to brush his lips on the lithe man's forehead. "Ya love him… doncha?" He whispered.

"I hold no unnecessary emotion towards anyone." He closed his eyes. "Loyalty is all that I hold for Aizen-sama."

"You still love the bastard." He replied, his lips still pressed gently on Ulquiorra's head.

"Aizen-sama." He corrected.

"Whatever." He snorted and chuckled, moving down to meet those eyes again. "But wouldn't ya like to know?"

"Know specifically what?" The dark-haired Espada opened his eyes, actually intrigued with Grimmjaw's remarks for once.

He moved down to the man's ears and whispered gently, his hands following the suite and moving down to his superior's surprisingly small hips. "What love is."


	2. Second Secret

**Our Greatest Secret.****  
**_A GrimmUlqui yaoi fan fiction._

**DISCLAIMERS:** Tite Kubo owns Bleach and all its characters.  
**WARNINGS:** Yaoi (GrimmUlqui), lemon (smut), unintentional OOC-ness, and unbeta-ed chapters.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Is there any GrimmIchi fan here? I am about to publish the first chapter of my first fic here someday in December, and my goal is to make people cry. If you think you're going to enjoy fic meant for that, please, keep an eye open. It has no title yet, but I think the title will have the word 'King' in it.

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**CHAPTER TWO**

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They stared at each other, exchanging confused glances. Both had no idea what the other was talking about, but it seemed the same matter at hand was what bothered them. It wasn't like they'd admit it, though. All they would ever claim was their hatred for each other, not this—whatever this was—and not even pity. The things that Grimmjaw saw earlier, he had just decided he would just lock up the thoughts and forget he had them. It wasn't normal of him to be bothered like this. It was already strange enough that he saved someone else's butt, stranger that it was Ulquiorra's. He couldn't believe what slipped out of his tongue, but it seemed like he made a move that would make his prior plan impossible. He can't turn back now. For the sake of his pride, he will not turn back.

Ulquiorra was beneath him, lying still and staring emptily. His long fingers brushed the inferior being's exposed cheek, not stopping from the moment it landed there until when they were both at lost for words. He parted his pale lips a little, feeling awkward with the new kind of silence he found himself in under another man's shadow than of his lord Aizen. He wanted to speak, swallowing the lump on his throat, but still nothing came through but a broken croak.

"Hey," Grimmjaw's low voice broke the heavy atmosphere swirling around them. "Ya still with me?" He blinked, giving a beautiful effect on his deep blue eyes in the dim light. His hand clenched against the mattress, easing some of the tension he had inside. He was nervous for some reason, but he never liked giving anyone the satisfaction of seeing something that wasn't his strength. Ulquiorra was obviously no exception of it.

The cuatro Espada simply stared at the form hovering him as the scene minutes before seemed to replay in his mind. It was like a chance to see the same thing twice in the same perspective—the light, the forms, the atmosphere... the warm feeling of a man breathing on his ear and skin. It was like it was happening again.

_Wouldn't you like to kno__w what love is?_ The deep voice echoed in his head, knocking out the defences he had for as long as he could remember. Was the offer that tempting that he was left undecided? Or was it because that question didn't really sound like an offer but an introduction to that four letter world the humans held so dear?

The cuatro Espada blinked a few times and swallowed. He was feeling very exposed even though the only thing those blue eyes were staring at was his own, not anywhere else. Hands that were not his were lingering in places that didn't bring anything in his groin but in his chest. It was strange. He knew he wasn't supposed to feel that way. There was something wrong, there had to be something wrong. But what is it?

He tried so hard to figure it all out, processing every data he had so far. But all that he had were unstable emotions, surging wildly and secretly beneath his pale skin. He didn't have enough, but he should be able to come up with something even with insufficient records. Even just a bit, even just a word, but where had it all gone?

The dark-haired Espada shifted, but it was barely noticeable. He parted his lips, and at last, words supported his courage to talk. His throat was still dry, but it didn't really matter anymore at the moment. "How well are you acquainted with this emotion you are so willing to educate me?"

"Good enough to be aware of it, that much I can assure ya."

"You understood something I couldn't comprehend myself. I express my astonishment towards it, and for that, I ask you to give me a more liable answer than what you have given me. Or is that something too much to ask from you?"

"Seriously, what the hell do ya take me for? I'm not stupid."

"I am simply supporting words for my thoughts that I believe you would easily understand. Do not mistake this as a mockery for your shortcoming."

"Why ya arrogant piece of fucked-up shit.. I'd be damned by the day ya listen to yourself talk." He groaned, shifting and crawling away from the green-eyed Arrancar. Grimmjaw settled on the edge of the bed and threw his feet down to the floor. He bent over a little and cradled his face with a palm, letting the other hand rest between his thighs. "Anyway, I don't really care if you're contented with that or not."

Ulquiorra slowly sat up, his eyes not leaving the seis Espada. "You offered an education of something so foreign to me. How can I—"

"Think I liked ya more when your trap's shut tight. Who would've thought that you're so god damned annoying when ya go chitychat?" He groaned loudly, scowling in annoyance. He stretched an arm back and turned his head to his superior in the middle of his bed, meeting those cold green eyes again. "But, does this mean that you're takin' up my offer?"

"Give me the answer I need and I might."

"Ya serious?"

"Do I sound unconvincing that I still have to reassure you?"

"I'm surprised ya know that." He snorted, his nose wrinkled in annoyance and obvious sarcasm. The Sexta Espada turned to look at the ground and continued, "The only answer I can give ya now besides what I already have is as simple as the first one, though. Think of me as a simpleton as much as ya like, but this is the only reason that I know…" he turned back to his superior, his eyes growing new edges. "It's because I'm not you."

Ulquiorra stared at him.

"If you're not still satisfied with that, ya can just decline the offer and get your naked ass outta here. But if ya are, dress up and come back tomorrow." He stood up and slid his hands to his pockets. The seis Espada waked towards the door and stopped when his hand was able to envelope the silver knob. He stared at it for a while, replaying their conversation slowly in his head. His green-accentuated eye narrowed as he opened his lips to continue, "So, which one will it be?"

The Cuatro Espada was lying on the bed again, silently. He didn't give any answer, perhaps he was thinking. His arms were on his sides as if the space was tight and confined, but it was obviously not. He wasn't making any movement, not even his fingers twitch.

Grimmjaw scowled and raised a brow. He walked back to his bed when a couple of cold minutes came and went. He had something in the back of his head going on, and hoped he was wrong. He stopped by the edge of his occupied bed and settled his eyes on the pale face pressed comfortably against his pillow. The seis Espada found his self smiling gently, but wiped it off as soon as he had realized despite knowing that no one was there to see it.

Ulquiorra was asleep.

The Sexta Espada walked to the foot of the bed and picked up the discarded pants. He turned back to the dark-haired Arrancar and gently put the garment over the other's lower limbs. He didn't want to wake him up, so he did that instead and pulled the mattress up to the neck. "Good night."

**The n****ext morning**, Ulquiorra woke up and found the supposed occupant of the bed asleep on one corner, leaning against the pure white wall with limbs sprawled. He pushed the mattress off his body and found his pants over him. The green-eyed Espada stood up, put on his clothes, and took the mattress towards the sleeping Arrancar. He bent down, crouching to his level and stared.

"Grimmjaw," He called, but the said man didn't budge. The cuatro Espada didn't bother the inferior any longer, and wrapped the mattress around the man instead. He didn't know what it meant, but thought perhaps it was one of the ways of love that the seis Espada offered to teach. He somewhat agreed already, so he decided to give Grimmjaw the chance to lead him. He brushed his fingers gently on the Sexta's exposed cheek, "Sleep well."

Ulquiorra stood up, brushing his white uniform, and then soundlessly left the Sexta Espada to himself.

Grimmjaw's eyes opened infuriately. His frowned and scratched the back of his head, deciding whether to get back to sleep or shake the remaining stress off. He scanned around his room and yesterday's events slowly registered in his head. His blue eyes turned to the bed and found it empty but made. He raised a brow, wondering where his scholar has gone to so early in the morning. But he was too tired to care, his eyes fell close again.

He was woken up by the sound of the door closing, his feline senses getting the best of him again. The Sexta Espada stood up, holding the mattress as he did, and threw the cloth back to his bed. He stretched his limbs and rolled his neck, stopping when the cracking sounds didn't come.

Somebody knocked on his door. "Aizen-sama wishes for your presence."

"Ch." He turned to the closed door, "Gimme five minutes."

"Now, Sexta."

"Bitch," Grimmjaw walked to his door and opened it with a violent swing. He glared daggers at the smaller Espada, seeing that the Cuatro has gone back to his usual apathetic state. He bent down, sinking his head between in shoulders just so he could look at the other's green eyes closer. He grinded his teeth and furrowed his brows. He snarled, "I don't remember ya talkin' to me like that yesterday."

"That was a different matter… and time." Ulquiorra closed his eyes. "You'll have me in any way you want every late evening."

"Why so late? Ya afraid someone will find out that you bow down to me?"

"I do not bow down to anyone else but to Aizen-sama." He opened his eyes and stared impassively at the Sexta's blue orbs. "Now, be quiet and follow me." He turned, slid his hands to his pockets, and walked away, his tailcoat and dark hair fluttering in the morning's breeze as he moved. He was cold, he had always been cold, but this morning was different. He didn't know why, but something was off. Something was simply… new.

Grimmjaw followed the frail body with his eyes, and took his first step towards the illusion-user Shinigami when his two ranks higher superior was at least a couple of feet away. He watched Ulquiorra's form intently, reflecting back to those words that were said to him. In some other sense, the Cuatro Espada had told him that it was to be secret, and if anyone finds out, he would call the deal off… without any hesitations.

But why did it matter the Sexta so much? It was just a game he randomly dished out, didn't he? It happened by accident. He didn't have any intentions, he didn't even mean it! Didn't even want to be there and see whatever it was that he shouldn't have seen but did. Wait, he did have an intention, but wasn't that too plain for him to be disturbed this much? It's only to see that face… Ulquiorra's face.

The blue-eyed Espada shook his head and his thoughts. He was getting too worked up for his own good. He was never the type to trouble his self with such things. He fights, he only fights. Nothing less, and maybe if there is more to it, then it would be killing. He fights, he kills. It almost the same, and without a doubt, it had nothing to do with Ulquiorra unless his opponent would be him.

_So, y__a hold my mornin', and I your evenin'?_ The Sexta Espada rolled his shoulders, and then slid his hands to his pockets.

His personal meeting with Aizen came and went with a snap of his fingers. He didn't even have to force himself to pay attention, because, luckily, their _friendly _chat was shorter than his attention span. It didn't used to go that way, but Grimmjaw really didn't care. He was looking forward to late evening, and he couldn't deny it, because his chest was thumping like crazy… like he had a heart beneath it.

**L****ate evening** came, and such an irony had happened that Grimmjaw wouldn't have noticed it if it weren't for his _new student_ knocking on his door. He was too occupied… too excited to see him. Pathetically too excited just to be in the same room as the Cuatra. He stood up and answered the door, stepping aside for his guest to enter soundlessly. Blue eyes followed the frail form unconsciously, and once it realized what it was doing, it stopped and looked away, afraid to get caught.

Ulquiorra walked around as if the room was any different from his. He stopped in the middle and then turned around, patiently waiting for any orders from the inferior. Yes, he was waiting to be bossed around by an Espada two ranks inferior to him, and it was only because of this… this love that he didn't and could never understand. Every night, every this time of every day, he decided to put aside his pride and maybe one day, he might really bow down to him.

_Where did that come from?_ The Cuatro Espada thought. _I will never bow down to anyone else. Never._

Grimmjaw groaned, closing the door with a loud thud, and turned to the smaller man. He approached him and stopped just when they were just a step away from each other. He met his eyes, but he will not be intimidated. The sun has retreated, this man was his now. It was an agreement… an agreement he will never regret sharing.

The Sexta Espada pushed the frail body down to the bed and crawled over it, shielding it from the light. He put his arms by his superior's head, and his knees beside the womanly hips. He bent down, invading the dark-haired Espada's personal space. Anyone would fidget when they are forcefully put in this position; at least, that was what the Sexta believed.

"You appear to be quite fond of this… position." Ulquiorra blatantly said, his eyes locked with those that towered him. He was as emotionless as always, disappointing his inferior to the very core. He brought his hands up to the man's face, holding them gently.

"And ya seem to have somethin' with faces." He brought a hand and put it around one of Ulquiorra's. "…or is it just with mine?"

"Do not flatter yourself."

"By the time I do that, it will be the first for everything." He grunted and pulled the hands away from his face. The seis Espada crawled off the smaller Arrancar, and settled at the corner of his bed. He bent over and rested his arms on his knees, staring into space.

That face, Ulquiorra's face, again, was haunting him. The real person was there with him, occupying the same bed that he did. Why was that look so special to him? Why can't the usual ones be enough? He couldn't understand. They were the same person with the same eyes, nose, and lips. Everything was the same, but why was he craving to see something else?

Grimmjaw's grip on his arms tightened, only to make him realize that he had actually held them. He turned his head towards the Cuatra, and met the eyes that drowned him with darkness and nothing else. Wasn't green supposed to mean growth? And doesn't growth mean progress? Moving… warm… and alive like those trees he saw at the human realm that endlessly reached up to him as he flew.

"What is the matter?" He sat up.

Green meant life, just like blue… or red. Green was the color of the cuatro Espada's eyes. Red was the one over blood, the roots of life. Green was the color that reign over those round orbs. Blue enveloped energy, the power to keep us breathing. Green was the color of the leaves, and leaves were alive. They grow. They fly. They live. They die. They were… everything unlike…

"Ulquiorra."

Their lips were inches apart, and his hand was around the collar of the Cuatra's shirt. He was moving slowly, taking the space inch by inch towards his superior's pale lips. He closed his eyes slowly, his brain showing him in advance what he going to do would look like. It was no doubt, he was going to kiss him. Nothing was wrong with that, right? That was a part of love, but why all of a sudden? Was it to see an emotion in those eyes again? He was going to kiss him and lie about the reason, just because… of that? That very simple reason?

Ulquiorra simply stared, processing again, like a computer, the information he held that concerned the action. His brow suddenly creased, failing to comprehend what was inside the blue-eyed Espada's mind.

Grimmjaw shivered when he felt warm breath against his lips. He paused for a while, and continued after a split second of hesitation. Their lips were now only millimeters apart, sharing the same air to take in and breath, it was stupid to retreat. There was no way back. He gulped. Why was he feeling this way? This wasn't going to be anything serious, right? He's just… going to…

"Grimmjaw," Ulquiorra watched as those bright blue orbs fluttered open when he pressed a finger against those lips and pushing it away from his. "Don't."

The Sexta Espada pulled back, disappointment was in his eyes. Why was he disappointed? Did he want to see that face again so badly? He shook his hea gently, and then pressed his lips together. Grimmjaw sighed and held his head, thinking… for once, about what he almost did. He was about to kiss him, and what made it worse was that 'him' was the most arrogant person he knew.

"Are you ill?"

Blue eyes turned to meet the green pair again. He groaned, "I almost kissed you, I HAVE to be ill."

"Do not talk as if I was the one who started it."

He rolled his eyes with another inward groan. He turned his head away, "Shut up… and stop starin' at me like ya wanna eat me." He stood up and slid his hands inside his pockets. Grimmjaw turned around and glared at the Cuatra with all the courage he had left, because somehow… it all seemed to have left him. "Now, get your fat ass off my bed, 'cause we're leavin'."

"Where are we going?" He simply asked as did what he was told: to get off of the bed.

Grimmjaw extended a hand and ripped a Gargantua through the air which the superior Espada eyed curiously. "Human realm."

"And our purpose? I do believe that you are aware that Aizen-sama will be displeased if we leave without his consent."

"Look," The Sexta Espada bared his fangs as he growled at the dark-haired Espada and stepped towards him, towering him again. He glared daggers at those eyes that didn't look like they were the slightest intimidated at all. Grimmjaw was angry for some reason, and all patience he thought he had had all dried out of him. It was weird, but when did he ever care?

"I didn't talk back shit at ya this morning, did I?" He growled. "I heard ya loud and clear: you have me when it's bright; I have ya when it's dark. I played nice, now you play the same shit. So, shut it before I shove somethin' down yer throat just so ya will shut up!"

In reply, Ulquiorra closed his eyes and lowered his head to its normal level.

"Good." The seis Espada nodded. "Now, let's go and get this shit done."

Grimmjaw stepped into the Gargantua and Ulquiorra silently followed. They found themselves in the **Human world** within seconds. They were transported in a place filled by trees, and if one would look closely, you could spot a pond. Ulquiorra mentally noted that he was brought to a park, something that does not and will ever exist in Hueco Mundo.

Ulquiorra turned to the Sexta, awaiting further instructions. When he saw Grimmjaw's finger moved and pointed at a direction, he followed it with his eyes and saw a two humans together, walking side by side and holding hands. His green eyes concentrated on the pair, leaving everything else behind his thoughts.

The Cuatro Espada was wondering, and then he turned to look at his own hands. They were slim and pale. When he brought them together, he realized that they were cold. Had the humans found something good in cold things?

"There's nothin' wrong with their hands AND yours… if that's what you're wonderin' about." He put a hand over Ulquiorra's closed ones.

_Warm._ The Cuatra realized and opened his hands, cradling softly the one that were not his. He flexed his fingers, letting them rest over the back of the inferior Espada's darker hand.

"It's a way to show yer feelin' for someone else. Y'know… like love."

Ulquiorra squeezed them gently.

"What?"

The cuatro Espada lifted his head and met the other's blue ones. He parted his lips and asked, "What do you feel?"

"Huh?" He raised a brow and tried to take his hand away, but Ulquiorra's hold was firm. He couldn't take it. "What are ya sayin'? Lemme go."

Ulquiorra stared and then pulled their hands up. "Expression of feelings." He said plainly, stating the obvious. "What do you feel?"

"I feel like shit! I'm fucking holdin' hands with ya! Now, lemme go!" He yanked his hand and successfully freed it from his superior's grip. He groaned and rubbed the hand that was previously trapped. "Okay, now ya have officially freaked me out! Rule number two, stop bein' so weird! Three, stop asking shitty questions unless I do so!"

"We had rules? You even started with two."

"First rule was not to look at me like ya wanna eat me!" He growled and turned around. "Let's go back."


	3. Third Secret

**Our Greatest Secret.****  
**_A GrimmUlqui yaoi fan fiction._

**DISCLAIMERS:** Tite Kubo owns Bleach and all its characters.  
**WARNINGS:**Yaoi (GrimmUlqui), lemon (smut), unintentional OOC-ness, and unbeta-ed chapters.

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CHAPTER THREE

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Black lines, drawing chapped lips, ripped through the pure white walls of Las Noches, insanely pushing the spaces aside in a slow but steady pace. It looked like a large mouth, a giant's mouth, but no teeth were present as to harm its passengers. Once the mouth was open, plain darkness painted the opened space and a couple of Arrancars that had just made a little field trip in the Human Realm.

Grimmjaw took a step out of the Gargantua and then turned back, offering a hand to the smaller man still inside the dark dimension.

Green eyes stared intently at the hand, maybe processing some more information or wondering why such was extended before him. He reflected back to their previous _lesson_, but the only thing he remembered was that the Sexta did not like this type of contact. Ulquiorra looked up, inclining his head to meet gazes with the taller man. His lightly colored lips were gently sealed, following the orders that was handed to him or simply the rules that was forced upon him to follow.

Blue tinted brows furrowed, "What now?"

Ulquiorra, hesitating in a split second, opened his lips carefully and lifted a hand to point at the other that was being offered to him. But before he could explain, or simply even say anything, the inferior Espada had cut him off with a growl.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Grimmjaw snatched the pale hand and pulled it, making the smaller man stumble and trip out of the large mouth. The Sexta Espada met the other's falling form and caught him with his bare chest.

Ulquiorra pressed his thin hands against the other's exposed chest, preventing himself from falling over the taller man with his whole weight. He looked up after he balanced himself, meeting those blue orbs.

"Sorry." He muttered, staring back at his superior's green eyes. For a moment, he thought he saw something behind the smaller man's defenses, but he could always doubt the Cuatra showing any signs of emotions. Grimmjaw turned away before heat managed to fill his cheeks, a peculiar image of his superior appearing in his mind.

Ulquiorra straightened himself, brushing and fixing his white coat. He looked up to Grimmjaw again, awaiting more orders, but none came. He waited for a few more minutes, but the taller man still didn't budge. He rested his eyes for a moment, and then asked the attention of the Sexta with his monotonous voice.

"Grimmjaw,"

Head still turned away, the blue-haired Espada brought a hand to his face. He bit his lip under his hand and tried to stop himself from thinking back any further to that day, but it won't just go away.

"W-what?" He growled, hiding everything he could from the other.

Ulquiorra turned to where the other was facing and replied, "I don't see anything interesting to where you are facing, or should there be something that I again just could not see from what I know?"

Grimmjaw ground his teeth, turning his back on his superior. "There's nothing." He said, sliding his hands to his pockets, and walked away. He wanted to get back in his room and sort his thoughts out again. The memory haunted him again, and he just wanted it to stop. Remembering it made him feel strange. At first, he didn't mind it and took it simply as an amusement, but it grew. In two night's time, the awkwardness he had been feeling on his chest grew to something he could no longer tolerate.

The Sexta Espada didn't know if he really wanted it or not. One time, he longed for it, maybe even developed a great lust for it as much as he did for strength, but now, or some other time, he regretted even knowing that there was such thing. He was confused, undecided, and utterly disturbed by such a thing. It wasn't normal of him to think of anything this much, let alone thinking about the Cuatra Espada.

"It's still the evening, Grimmjaw."

The seis Espada stopped, but didn't bother to look back. His cheeks still felt hot, and he could be sure they didn't look normal. Showing it to the smaller man will only complicate things further, and Grimmjaw hated things like that. "So?"

"We're still not done."

Grimmjaw sighed, "Ya want more?"

He didn't like being indecisive, that's why he didn't want complicated things. He didn't want being confused, never liked it. But now that he was going through what he hated the most, all he wanted was to stop and put an end to it. He had to decide, that much he knew, and he didn't care anymore whether his decision was for the better or not. What only mattered to him was to get back the peacefulness in his mind, to take away the doubts and burden that fell upon him that day… that day when he felt something inside him turn so painfully.

"Fine." He looked up and flexed his shoulders. He rolled his neck and groaned, tapping his feet couple of times. "Follow me to my room." He said before disappearing, using Sonido to get back to his side of the fortress.

Ulquiorra rested his eyes and followed the blue-haired Espada with the same speed.

Once back in his room, Grimmjaw took of his coat and told the Cuatra to occupy the bed which the man wordlessly complied.

Ulquiorra looked up at Grimmjaw, eyes scanning over the toned abdomen and up to what proved the man to be a Hollow. He opened his lips to talk, but before words could come out, a foreign pair covered it. His green eyes widened, taken absolutely unprepared.

Grimmjaw closed his eyes and took a fistful of dark hair. He snaked an arm under the smaller man, carried him to the center of the bed and pinned him down without breaking their kiss. His fingers crawled up and underneath the white coat of his superior, exploring every inch he never thought he would ever have the chance to.

Thin and pale hands pressed against the broad chest, wanting to get away. He was the Cuatra Espada, two ranks more powerful than his attacker, but for some reason, the ranks proved him wrong. Ulquiorra failed to fight the seis Espada off him. He closed his eyes and clawed the bare skin. His mind went blank, every statistical plan and power forcefully drained out of him, leaving him completely weak and defenseless.

Grimmjaw ripped the smaller man's coat and pants in few swift moves. He broke the kiss for a few moments only to gain air, and then drove back down again. He slid his tongue inside the warm cavern and began exploring as much as he did with his hands all over the pale skin.

Ulquiorra started to shake, but it was only a bit, barely noticeable. His eyes were still round in shock, pupils dilating in fear. He still kept on fighting despite the fact that it was all in vain. He started whimpering, desperation getting the best of him.

Blue eyes shot open, catching a sight of glistening green orbs. Grimmjaw pulled back, mouth slightly open, taken unprepared by the sounds that rang his ears. He knew that sound, and he heard that somewhere before. That was the sound that came with the pounding against the wall that woke him in his sleep, but it was more... scared. More pained.

The cuatro Espada was staring back at him with the eyes that haunted him in his thoughts, the eyes that stared back at him when _their_ lord had offered one of his children to the other for indulgence. He was whimpering with eyes close to tears, like a human child taken advantaged of.

"Oi." He brushed a finger underneath those fearful eyes, hoping to calm him down. He used to long for this look, but now that he had it, now that it was presented to him, he didn't want it anymore. It turned something inside him, like the first time, but it hurt more. It felt like he was stabbed deeply in his chest, and then somebody twisted the blade.

"Oi!" He called again, but nothing happened. His heart started to beat faster when those eyes didn't change, when they didn't turn back to the coldness they always were. He held the Cuatra's shivering shoulders, squeezing and shaking them. "Oi, Ulquiorra!"

The Cuatra jerked with a gasp, as if his time alone had stopped. His eyes finally moved, scanning the room fast and uneasy.

Grimmjaw took one of the smaller man's hands and pressed it against his exposed cheek, "You're cold."

Ulquiorra stared at him and slowly, the storm inside him subsided, leaving his eyes cold and empty of anything but its color. He sighed, and pulled his hand away. The cuatro Espada closed his eyes and rolled his head to the side, mind still blank of any coherent thing to say.

Grimmjaw raised himself, propping on his elbows. "What happened to ya?"

"Nothing."

"Don't give me that shit." He growled and took the superior's hands again, pulling them as he sat up. He transferred both of Ulquiorra's hands in one and used the other to pull the mattress up to his hips. When he finished covering all that wasn't supposed to be seen, he held the pale hands on each of his own.

Now sitting up, he asked, "What are we doing now?"

"Remember this?" Grimmjaw raised their holding hands.

_Expression of feelings. _Ulquiorra told himself and then stared at the larger man before him, processing the verbal order. Although he understood it right away, he did not speak. He kept his lips together and simply looked at the blue orbs that was on him.

"Now tell me, will ya?"

The Cuatro Espada continued to simply stare, and then, after a while, shook his head.

"Fuck, what's the deal with all these shit if ya don't wanna listen to me?!" He shoved the smaller man down the bed, and again, saw those eyes that broke something inside him. He froze, captured by that peculiar emotion flooding the green eyes staring back. He felt a shiver up his spine, and something... turning somewhere in his chest. It was the same feeling he had just moments ago brought by the very same person and circumstance.

Grimmjaw sighed, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against the other. "Spare me a minute." He sighed and then rolled off the bed, leaving the superior Espada alone on the bed.

The blue-haired Arrancar stood up and picked up the ripped white clothes as he felt heavy stares on him, but he didn't care. He threw it to one corner of his room and headed to his walk-in closet.

Ulquiorra stayed still and made himself rid of the strange sensation in his chest.

The Sexta Espada walked back in his room with a pair of clothes draped over his shoulder. He pulled it off when he was a step away from the bed and threw them to the pale man staring back at him from his bed. "Wear these."

The smaller man caught them easily. He sat back up and unfolded them, realizing that it wasn't his clothes... not even his size. Ulquiorra looked up at Grimmjaw as if he was sending his complaints simply through thinking.

"Your wing is pretty far away, ya ass. I ain't gettin' new clothes for ya. Just use mine for a while, and then get new ones yourself tomorrow." The blue-haired Espada explained, sitting down and occupying one corner of the bed. He turned his head away, wordlessly saying that he was giving the smaller man some privacy to dress up right then.

Ulquiorra turned back to the white jacket before him. It was exactly what the seis Espada had been wearing, an extra pair of his uniform. "I'll be staying here?" He asked as he flipped the jacket around and slid his arms to the long sleeves.

"Roll the fucking sleeves up. Ya'll look like that fag if ya don't." Grimmjaw groaned, looking back at his superior for a while and then turning away again. He leaned forward and rested his arms over his knees, growling. "I don't want to see anything in my room that reminds me of that little suck up."

"You still don't seem to be very fond of Luppi." He replied as he rolled up the long sleeves, revealing the dark color on the other side of the clothing and the paleness of his skin. He saw bruises from the other night, the proof that _his_ lord had laid him to his bed, touching and kissing. Feeling up the skin that no other creature had ever touched but him.

_Who owns your body and soul, Ulquiorra? _The gentle voice sang in his ear, bringing shivers up his spine. He could still feel the foreign fingers brushing against his skin, and the warm breath tickling his ears. _You are mine, Ulquiorra. I own your body and soul. You are my whore._

"Who would be fond of a man-whore?"

Ulquiorra froze, body turning cold. He snapped back to reality when he heard the word again. It was similar in a way, how Grimmjaw addressed the other Arrancar as a whore. Maybe the Sexta didn't call him one, but still, it meant the same. He was one of them, one of those who silently takes everything that was offered to them without asking any questions, without any fight. But he fought Grimmjaw off him, didn't he?

"I mean, that fuck even dreams of taking my place. That bastard can live longer than I am and waste his whole life just dreaming. I swear I'd be ashamed being ranked seis if being one meant being compared to that asshole. If someday I hear that the shit spreads his legs to anyone who fucking asks, I swear I wouldn't be surprised."

Ulquiorra was different, wasn't he? He hadn't been accepting everyone to his bed. It was only Aizen, it was only _his_ lord. It was different, wasn't it? He was not a whore. He couldn't accept that. He knew he wasn't one, but what did others think of him? Did they see him like one?

_Oh, I get it. You're willingly swaying your ass up high in the air, asking to get fucked, just because that bastard told ya so!? _The words hurt, words that came harsh from Grimmjaw's lips the first time in the thousand nights that he was saved. _That's it! You're really gonna get it now!_

He wasn't stupid. He knew what exactly Aizen was doing to him, and the only problem was he didn't want to think any of it. He forced himself to simply believe that it was entirely what it was called: a trial. A trial of loyalty. At first, it wasn't so hard to believe. It wasn't that hard for Ulquiorra to give his body and soul if it meant proving his undying loyalty. Second wasn't that hard, either. Third. Fourth. Fifth time, he started doubting. It was strange that only that fifth night he started to get scared, but all was too late. He had become _their_ lord's toy before he even knew it.

"Anyway, if ya don't mind staying here, ya could." Grimmjaw turned to Ulquiorra and found him staring at the white sheets, fingers shaking and clenching at them. The Sexta Espada crawled up and watched his superior closer, realizing that the smaller man was experiencing… whatever it was that he was going through. He couldn't really name it.

"Oi, are ya all right?" He asked, but Ulquiorra didn't answer. "Oi!"

The Cuatra Espada looked up, blinking a few times, and then snatched one of the Sexta's hands and held them tightly between his own. He opened his lips, and with barely noticeable panic, he said, "I… I am not a whore."

"What?"

Ulquiorra held the man's hand tighter, keeping in mind that it was the only way he knew how to express what he wanted to say and what he felt. He didn't know any other way, he had no idea at all. Grimmjaw was the one who taught him that, so he knew for sure that he would understand. Even if what he learned was a lie, at least, he could hold on to that for a while. He was good at that, wasn't he? Good at fooling himself?

"I am not a whore." He repeated, holding the man's hand tighter.

"No shit." He yanked his hand away when he felt the grip loosened slightly. Grimmjaw stared at his hand and flexed his fingers for a while, checking if he got some injury from his superior's vice-like grip. When he found none, he looked up at Ulquiorra with his emotionless mask on. He sighed, "You're acting like a freak again."

"I apologize." He lowered his head for a while, "I'll accept any punishment you see fit."

"Freaky." He muttered, feeling completely weird upon having Ulquiorra bow his head before him. "Anyway, put on the pants. From the way I see it, I don't think ya are quite used to being... exposed, so ya can close the shirt if ya want."

Ulquiorra did what he was allowed to do. He zipped the shirt up to the top, wearing the Sexta's uniform like it was one of his own. He blinked for a couple of times, noticing that the collar was larger than his. It reached up to his nose. Though it wasn't and impossible to be tight, he felt like he couldn't breath, so he pulled the zipper down and let the shirt reveal his skin just above his Hollow hole.

The blue-haired Espada quietly watched his superior fidget with his uniform. He smiled a little, finding a bit of amusement in seeing the great Cuatro Espada dressed up in an extra large uniform. Even though the sleeves were rolled up, anyone could see that three arm-size of Ulquiorra could fit, and the shirt... the shirt was supposed to reach only a few inches below the chest, but it reached Ulquiorra's small hips.

"It suits ya."

The Cuatra Espada glanced at him, and the moved to the other side of the bed with the white pants at hand. He stretched his legs and slid the pants on without completely standing up. He turned his head to Grimmjaw and asked, "The sash."

Grimmjaw groaned, and then bent down, reaching for a black piece of cloth. "I didn't destroy it." He said, handing it to his superior.

"How nice of you to do so." He said, standing and wrapping it around his waist. Ulquiorra said, back facing the bed and the other Espada, "Am I allowed to leave?"

The blue-haired Arrancar glanced out of the window and realized that _their_ lord had turned the skies bright again. They didn't really have any night or day. In Hueco Mundo, it's always dark. In some sense, it meant that he owned Ulquiorra at all times, but their agreement obviously referred to the time in Las Noches, not Hueco Mundo itself. If it did, then the agreement wouldn't make any sense at all. But when did anything ever made sense in Hueco Mundo? It would be morning if Aizen wanted to, and evening if he wished to retire early. Nothing made sense. Nothing ever did.

"Why are ya askin' orders from me?" Grimmjaw jerked his head towards the window. "Night's done."

"I see." Ulquiorra turned his head straight to his path and closed his eyes. "I'm leaving."

**Later that day, early evening, **Ulquiorra came knocking on the white doors again, ready for another set of nonsense he strangely asked to be informed of. He stood before it, like any other day that he had. His eyes closed, resting, and his hands slid inside his pockets since they weren't needed to do anything at all. The dark-haired Espada knocked again, hearing no sound of movement on the other side of the door.

"Grimmjaw," he monotonously called.

The Cuatra Espada knocked for the third time, and when it was still unanswered, he took the knob and twisted it open. It was unlocked, not very surprising, but why didn't anyone open the door? Ulquiorra helped himself in and spotted the Arrancar, who took ownership in the current wing he was on, lying on the bed with his arms spread wide. He walked further, closer to the bed, and stood beside the seemingly asleep Espada. He bent down, looking at the surprisingly peaceful face. The Sexta looked different without the malicious grin or deep scowl etched in his features, the Cuatra realized.

"Grimmjaw," he called again.

"What do ya want, ya bastard?" The blue-haired Arrancar shifted and turned his head to the side, putting an arm over his eyes. His sleeves was pulled up, revealing the weeping wounds on his abdomen. There were lots of them that came in various depth and length. Green eyes scanned and took note of each and every cut that adorned the toned body. The Sexta parted his chapped lips and said, "If yer too stupid to take note of it, I'm fuckin' tired."

Ulquiorra sat on one side of the bed, eyes still all over the wounded body. Those wounds were made all for him, and the person did not struggle also because of him. It was just strange how everything turned out. For him, it was just a meeting like any other because it started exactly how it usually did. It surprised him when it didn't end how he believed it would be.

"Does it hurt?" He asked, barely recognizable concern lacing his cold voice.

The Sexta Espada sat up and grazed his fresh wounds with his fingers. Blood stained the white mattress, but he didn't care. He was too tired to care about things like that. He raised a knee and rested an arm over it. Grimmjaw sighed and closed his eyes, feeling every cut made in his body weep and throb. It was the worst state he had ever been, and the only ones that could do it to him was on his own side. It was ironic, but at least he didn't have to worry about too much. He just have to behave well and he'd be fine.

"Of course, it does, ya moron." He replied, "I almost died." But he knew he wouldn't. Aizen wouldn't kill him.

The pale-skinned Arrancar stared at the other. "I can not fathom any reason behind your actions, but it wasn't good for you to--"

"Not let that shit touch ya?" Grimmjaw growled, angry eyes looking back at a pair of green. "It's hard to look for concern in yer words, but I'm fine. Things also turned out well for me in the very least."

"I am not concerned about you."

"Whatever." Grimmjaw turned away with a scowl. '_Not concerned' my ass._

"Aizen-sama isn't pleased." He said plainly, looking away and remembering how _his_ lord reacted when it all happened. Aizen wasn't a man of many emotions, or maybe he was, he just hid it behind his smiling mask. It wasn't that often that you see the ex-shinigami captain get shocked like that. Ulquiorra took note of it, and even though Aizen didn't appear much displeased, he could feel how angry _his_ lord was. Behind the smile, behind the sweet voice, _his_ lord was very, very angry.

"Of course, he's fucking not pleased!" He growled, glaring at his superior. "Ya can see how near he brought me to death, can't ya?!"

Ulquiorra moved his hands from his pockets to his lap, looking at how close his skin color was to the cloth. He noted that Grimmjaw's and anybody else's was darker. He looked at the blood stain on the mattress and on the Grimmjaw's white uniform, and then to the very source of it. He sighed, why must he be so different?

"You made such a scene. No wonder Aizen-sama hurt you this much... which makes me wonder as to why you did it."

"You ask too many questions."

"I apologize." Ulquiorra closed his eyes and bowed his head a bit.

"Stop doing that! It's freaking me off!" the Sexta Espada growled. "Regardless, don't ya get any idea that I care for ya!"

The Cuatro Espada stood up and slid his hands back to his pockets. He walked around the bed and stopped when he was in front of the blue-haired Espada. He stared intently at the eyes that fearlessly stared back. Grimmjaw was the one who finished the staring game who looked to his left. Ulquiorra simply rested his eyes and asked, "Why would I?"

"I dunno! Just don't ya dare take it like that." He replied, head still turned away. "'Cause I don't care about you and your ass. I hate you!"

"Yes, that's why you took your zanpakutou and threatened of slicing Aizen-sama's hand if Aizen-sama--"

"Shut up!" He stood up, towering over the pale Arrancar. He was insulted with how the smaller man talked back at him. It was as if he was being played on, and he hated that feeling. Other than being stepped on, he hated people he behave that they could control him. Grimmjaw hated being controlled, he hated being ordered around. His life was his own and it was no one else's power to tell him what to do, what he feels, and even what he thinks.

Grimmjaw glared at the dark-haired Espada, taking steps forward that made the other move back. "I don't care about you." He said, voice filled with anger.

"I know." He replied calmly. Even though Ulquiorra was the one who was retreating, he wasn't feeling threatened. He was the Cuatra Espada after all. He wouldn't be scared of a mere ranked seis Adjuchas that became an Arrancar just because of the Hougyoku. "You hate me."

"Damn right, I do." He stopped walking, finding that they had met the wall. He pressed his hands on the wall, placing them on each side of the smaller man's head. He leaned a bit, getting a closer look at the other man's eyes. "I fucking hate every fiber of you."

"Thank you anyway," he said, ignoring the Sexta Espada's previous remarks, and took one of Grimmjaw's hands into his. He was making it one of his habits so he would be able to keep it mind. He didn't have any plans of really applying it from the moment he learned what holding hands could do, but at least, he could show the person who taught him that he understood it... and appreciate it in a way. "For the first time as well."

The blue-haired Espada froze, seeing something new in those green orbs. It seemed like what used to twist something painfully in his chest, but strangely, this time, nothing hurt. Nothing actually felt out of the ordinary. It was strange, it was really, really strange. He wasn't confused anymore, though, and that made things weirder.

"D-damn it!" He cursed, feeling weird with his face again. He pulled his hand free and turned his back at the frail-bodied Espada. He bit his lip, his brain in a confusion again... just when he thought everything was back to normal.

_What the hell's happening to me!?_

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**A/N:** Wow, this is a surprise. I haven't been writing in a while, but I think I still have it. I must apologize for errors, though. I don't have a Bleach-beta, all I have is a Tekken-beta. But you can understand it, right? Feel free to question anything if you don't. I don't mind.

Thank you for those who commented about their characters. I really thought I made them OOC. Well, in this chapter, I think I really did! Hahah! I did my best, though. Really. Thank you again, and also for the reviews, story alerts and faves! And the alert and author faves! Ooh! Thank you so much!

Anyway, don't worry, I didn't put up a note here because I'm saying goodbye! Oh, no, no! I love this pairing too much that I can't leave them like this. I'm here because... I'm looking for GrimmIchi supporters? Hahah! I was writing one that's why it took me quite a while to finish OGS's third chapter. My GrimmIchi fic is entitled 'Chess Piece Kings', and it's a story I did with my friend.

Other than GrimmIchi supporters, how about som GrimmUlquiIchi? Hahah! No, it's not a threesome, it's a lovetriangle, actually. It's in AU, as well. Once I release that, it's gonna be officially my first AU fic. Really. Watch out for that, will you? :)


	4. Sexta's Secret

**Our Greatest Secret.**  
_A GrimmUlqui yaoi fan fiction._

**DISCLAIMERS:** Kubo Tite owns Bleach and all of its characters.  
**WARNINGS:** Yaoi (GrimmUlqui), lemon (smut), unintentional OOC-ness, and unbeta-ed chapters.

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**CHAPTER FOUR**

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Grimmjaw threw himself to his bed, clutching to his head. Although it was dark, he forced his superior to leave, muttering about headache and all other excuses that revolved around that thought. Frankly, he needed time for himself since it was almost a decade ago that he had last. He turned his head to the side, glancing at the door that was firmly shut. He furrowed his brows, hallucinating the retreating back of his superior was once again there. It was strange, almost everything was.

As he had been saying, he wasn't the type of person to think, yet there he was, staring through everything while trying to figure out what was just wrong with him. The headache wasn't an all out lie, but it wasn't to the degree that he couldn't do anything but rest. His head was throbbing painfully, yes, and he believed that it was all because of his recent thinking. His eyes were starting to hurt, too, due to the bright spectra he had seen these past few days from his trips to the human world.

_Why does it have to be so bright in that shit hole? _He groaned, pressing a hand over his tired eyes and cursing under his breath. He now had something new to trouble himself over. As what was said before, so many things had changed and it was annoying him to death. He hoped things would just stopped changing, so he could continue living the rest of his life with no worries at all.

He sighed, peering through the tiny spaces between his fingers. He hadn't had this kind of peace in a while, considering that he had Di-Roy and Il Forte bickering almost every hour on his wing. Grimmjaw stared at the ceiling, its absolute freedom of color reminding him again of the dark-haired Espada. Everything in Las Noches was white, from the sturdy walls to the delicately designed furniture used, but for a reason it only reminded him of a single person. A single person whose face was etched in his mind.

_Ulquiorra._ He thought, wandering deeper to his thoughts. He had done it again, seen it again: the defenses of the naturally cold man crumbling down like a building set on fire. On his finger tips, he felt that frail body turn cold and shake, which reason bothered him to no end. When he looked at those eyes, he saw how flooded it was with fear and pain. With his ears, he heard sounds he never thought a cuatro Espada could make. It was all too out of place. Everything didn't seem to fit in the picture with the impassive green-eyed Cuatra in the middle of it all.

He didn't like how things went out today, mainly because he somehow felt the other man's pain flowing into him when their eyes connected. He didn't like the feeling, not one bit of it. The more he feels it, the clearer and stronger it came to him. He couldn't stand it any longer. So, if there was something he could do to keep himself from feeling again, then, it will be done.

_I don't want to see him like that again. Never again._

First item on his problem list crossed out, then came the second: how was he going to stop that from happening again? He growled, slapping himself in the face. He thought thinking would end his problems, but it turned out that it was even making his headache worse. One after another, he kept solving them as much as he could. In the end, he realized that almost everything he had been doing these days were responsible for his own problems. To put it simply, he, being the usual bastard he prides himself to be, was the problem itself.

_Does that mean I hafta' do shit with myself?_ He groaned, rolling to lie on his side. If he was the problem, how was he going to solve himself? But if he turned out to be right, the Cuatra Espada should've done something about it or maybe just point it out, knowing that the man despised imperfections for _his_ lord on most things. Nonetheless, he had to do everything that he could.

**The following days** went surprisingly smooth with a quiet Sexta Espada being responsible of it. They were at the Human realm, walking and searching around for a _lesson_ they could hold for the rest of the evening. Grimmjaw was steps behind the Cuatra, keeping his distance as to not make anymore complications with his problem. After a while of walking, the smaller man stopped and folded his arms up, palms exposed in the air. Grimmjaw raised a brow and stood his ground, wondering what caught the man then.

_What the fuck is with him now?_

Blue orbs scanned the frail body from head to toe. He realized that Ulquiorra had a more feminine appearance than masculine. He was short, he had abnormally pale skin which was almost as white as his uniform, and his limbs were quite thin. From just looking, one could wonder where he had been getting all his power: physically and mentally. Among the ten Espada, he was also the one who looked the youngest, yet he was the Cuatra and the fourth strongest.

_If he was a woman, putting up with all his shit would be worth it. Maybe I should ask Il Forte sometime if pinky could do sex change. If it's possible, I don't hafta get myself all worked up. Guess I can just rape him whenever he pisses me off or grope his big jugs that I'll ask to be put. I heard it stings when ya squeeze them... that's gonna be one hell of a way to shut him up._

Grimmjaw smirked, thinking of other things he could do once Ulquiorra is on a more vulnerable state. He glanced at the subject of his daydreams, and found him standing before him. Those green eyes were staring at him, the type of staring that annoyed him the most. It was the lifeless look that leaves you wondering what it was for and what exactly it was looking at.

The Sexta Espada took a step back in surprise, round eyes staring back at those cold ones. He furrowed his brows and wondered why Ulquiorra moved that close to him. Most of the time, he would shiver and cry when he gets this close to him, but he wasn't behaving like any of that now. Did he miss some details of it? Was Grimmjaw wrong about thinking that the Cuatra gets traumatized when his small radius of personal space is crossed?

The green-eyed Espada continued to stare for a while longer, and then turned away, continuing his search around the place. He slid his hands to his pockets and let his coat flow in the air as he strode away from the Sexta.

_What's with that all of a sudden?_ Grimmjaw pressed a hand on his chest in relief, brushing the nervousness that was built up with his shock. He really wasn't used to have anyone on his face, and especially not the person he had just dreamed of actually groping. Although with that experience, he somehow had the feeling what Ulquiorra must've felt when he just pushed him and started touching him all over. It was quite shocking, and psychologically scarring at most. _Was that some damned karma? Can the fucker read my mind?!_

"Grimmjaw," Ulquiorra monotonously called, turning around and catching the Sexta Espada looking up. They stood a few meters apart, maybe for his own or the other's sake of comfort. He didn't exactly feel fine when Grimmjaw freaked out all of a sudden when he approached him. What he felt then was a bit like disappointment or being insulted. Though he gets it a lot around the fraccions, Grimmjaw was a different matter. "You have been misbehaving lately."

_Damn! That's what I get for shuttin' the hell up?_

Ulquiorra waited for a reaction, a yell, a string of curses... whatever Grimmjaw's usual reaction was, but none of it came. He rolled his eyes to the ground, and then turned his back again, walking away.

The seis Espada watched the retreating back with a scowl on his face. What was with Ulquiorra tonight? The Cuatra hadn't been doing anything but freaking him out, and then walking away. He said that he had been misbehaving. Grimmjaw scratched the back of his head and looked around, thinking back of what the other might be talking about. He remembered nothing. The truth of it is, he hadn't been doing much lately. He kept his promise and did what was necessary to keep Ulquiorra from having his panic attacks again--put distance between them. But this evening proved his solutions wrong. The cuatro Espada had come to him, and nothing happened.

Ulquiorra walked around until he found a couple that, in his view, was choking each other with the cloth around their neck. He looked back at the Sexta who seemed to have understood his gesture right away. He took his hands from his pockets as he waited for the inferior Espada to catch up, and then raised a finger to point at the humans that piqued his interest.

"They aren't dying." He said coldly, back still at Grimmjaw.

The seis Espada walked closer to the pale man, and looked over the smaller man's shoulder to see what the other pertained to when he said something about not dying. He stared at the humans for a while and thought what could be deadly with what they were occupied with, and then after a few minutes, he finally figured it out.

Ulquiorra turned to his side and saw the Sexta peering over his shoulder. He watched the man wonder, and he began to, as well. Green eyes suddenly met blue ones in a short period, and then the other turned away.

Grimmjaw pulled back, straightening his back and walking to stand beside the other in a fine distance. When he looked into those eyes, he saw they were about to break. They didn't look how they were supposed to look. The green eyes he met weren't cold, they weren't empty. They weren't the eyes he despised, they were the eyes that he feared. He hated things that changed, because he never knew what to do with them. He didn't want to see Ulquiorra breaking anymore, because he doesn't know what to do when it happens.

"The shit's for the cold. Y'know, like for winter? They use it to keep each other warm, because basically, you don't let your mate fucking freeze to death. Try to stick it in that little brain of yours, so I don't have to pity the poor female that will get stuck and fucked by you more than I already plan to." He sighed, suddenly feeling too tired to keep track of his words. He had been trying to get to Ulquiorra's better side by speaking a little more gentle, but from what he had heard, it wasn't helping at all.

"You speak like you know everything yet you sound uncivilized. I understood your explanation; however, I hope you could lessen using swear words since it is unnecessary in communication. I don't remember such being a part of speech."

"I'll damn talk exactly how I fucking want to," the seis Espada growled. His efforts were useless if it weren't recognized, and that had just been proven by the other regarding his actions as 'misbehaviors'. He tried so hard to change himself, to get the things between them a lot smoother, but what was the point? It wasn't taking him anywhere, just making him look like a fool. "Whiny fucked-up little shit."

"It was a plain suggestion, Grimmjaw. Although I did not say anything about making it worse if lessening was impossible for you."

"Whatever." _But why do I even care?_

Grimmjaw thought so hard about it, but the answer he kept on getting wasn't helping him at all. Truth be told, it was complicating things further, so he decided to sorry about it later. He wasn't used to the feeling, and he didn't really know how to get over it. He hated things he couldn't understand, and there were many of them. Well, now there were less, since he already destroyed half of them. But Ulquiorra wasn't something he could destroy. He didn't even want to try to anymore.

Blue eyes turned at the couple walking down the path, watching them with narrowed eyes. If Ulquiorra was just as expressive as the others, he didn't have to get so worked up about almost everything. If they could just talk like normal creatures does to settle things, things wouldn't go this way. But Grimmjaw knew better than to treat the Cuatra normal, because normal creatures know how to love and they can feel for another. Ulquiorra never gave compassion, never even showed that he cared.

He balled his fists, digging his nails on his palm until it started to sting. He didn't know what to do anymore. He did everything he could, pushed himself further even, but like with everyone else, there was a limit to what he could do. Maybe it was just fated that things will go this way, and he just can't do anything to run away from his newly found fear.

The seis Espada furrowed his brows and deepened his scowl. He was getting too worked up for his own good. Damn! Why did he have to be so worried about it? As long as it doesn't happen, there shouldn't be anything he should bother himself with. He used to fix things once they come themselves to his hands, or when there was no longer any possible escape from it. He was a creature that lets his wounds get cured on their own, because he knew, whether he tends them or not, they skin will close up again.

"Grimmjaw,"

The blue-eyed Arrancar looked to his side, gasping a bit from being taken away from his thoughts so suddenly. "What?"

"Behave... better."

His eyes grew large, lips parting a bit. Despite everything he had done, he was still not enough. Grimmjaw turned away, gazing at the scene far away. He should think of something new to do soon. He was getting tired of getting worried over something that the person concerned doesn't care at all. But who could he blame? Ulquiorra didn't ask for his help, he even doubted if it was even needed. Though he was thoroughly concerned, that was all he could do and he was getting tired of it.

_Stop worrying. Damn it!_

**The following morning**, the seis Espada woke up being tangled in the white sheets. He was barely sleeping on his bed with his limbs draped on the edges of it. He seriously had drained his strength last night thinking, he hadn't been that deep asleep for so long. Hid brain was probably too tired too trouble itself on how he slept. Grimmjaw was really getting all worked up, but was it really for nothing?

He groaned as he flipped to lie on his back, staring at the clear ceiling which morphed into a face he hardly missed. Grimmjaw furrowed his brows with another deep breath escaping his lips, and then he closed his eyes. Hating himself for simply starting the day by doing that one thing he hoped to keep himself from. He was getting... worried again.

He sat up and settled at the edge of the bed, looking around at his now messed up room. Ulquiorra had tidied it up for him the first night they slept together. Well, 'slept together' used to mean literally; not that other meaning. Literal, as in sleeping in the same place. Though, he had this urge to do just that for a while: to touch him in ways he had touched a woman on some nights or maybe do even more. But hadn't he done everything already? There was nothing else he had not yet done, and whatever his growing fetish maybe, it could be satisfied with any woman whose fine with a one night stand.

_What the hell am I thinking?_ Grimmjaw shook his head weakly, burying his head on his palm. He knew deep inside that it couldn't be done with just anyone anymore, and that it just had to be him. Something told him that the urges he had was past the reason of enjoyment or the pleasure it gives. It was an all new thing, but he knew he wasn't ready to face it just yet. He couldn't even bring himself to look at those fearful eyes once more. He still didn't know why, and he stopped trying to figure out just what it was. It couldn't be something he wanted to know, anyway.

He stood up and walked towards his shower, shedding his clothes piece by piece in every step. By the time his foot stepped on the cold tiles of the tiny room, he was stripped off everything but of his heavy thoughts. The Sexta Espada pressed his forehead against the wall as he closed his eyes and turned the faucet on. He jerked a little when he felt the hot water touch his back, scorching it with its high temperature.

Grimmjaw closed his eyes, thinking of the** few nights back** when he was less troubled and stressed. They were at the Human World like how it had always been, watching the humans go on with their lives. Grimmjaw was talking about the things he found in the Human World amusing and weird, like how humans managed to fit themselves in a box he recalled to be the television, or squish themselves even smaller to fit on smaller boxes called radios. Ulquiorra simply followed him, answering him once or twice whenever a sensible explanation comes to his mind. Grimmjaw knew they weren't making a good use of their time in doing something that wasn't what he promised they'd do, but the other didn't seem to mind and obviously he didn't either. Truthfully, he was enjoying every minute of it, and he managed to accept that, even only to himself.

He looked back, about to start another one of his babblings regarding the weirdness of humans, when he found his company gone. He turned around and traced his steps, only to find that the Cuatra was watching a couple kissing under the tree. Grimmjaw watched the pale man for a while, just looking at the face and absently admiring it. A smile graced his lips, but he turned them into a scowl when he found himself with it. Grimmjaw slid his hands to his pockets and then approached the other man, stopping just a step away.

"What's so strange 'bout it?" He asked with a raised brow, feigning innocence. Ulquiorra looked up at him, expectantly waiting for further information. The seis Espada cocked his head toward the human couple and said, "Ya kiss the person ya love. Humans actually find it special."

"I don't see what could be special in sharing body fluids." He blatantly replied, turning to leave the site. "It's plainly disgusting."

Grimmjaw wrinkled his nose, watching the Cuatra Espada walking away. He hunched over and grimaced as he followed, "God, ya talk like you're some innocent virgin, like ya haven't been fucked. You're really unbelievable."

Ulquiorra stopped, not taking another step away. He looked over his shoulder, and then turned his whole self to face the inferior Espada. He stared at him, and stared at him so intently, like he could melt him with just that.

"What?" He growled. "Did I say anythin' wrong?"

"Obstreperous trash."

Grimmjaw blinked, "What did ya just say?!"

"I find no importance in repeating myself, impervious ingrate." The dark-haired Espada closed his eyes, sliding his hand in his pockets, and walked away.

The Sexta Espada found it pointless to argue, so he let it drop. He decided to follow his superior until he finds something he could use to annoy him to have revenge on just what he was called with. But, even before that chance came, Ulquiorra stopped walking and turned to face him again. The Cuatra's face remained impassive, and the words that spilled through his lips made the atmosphere more tense.

"You kissed me." The green-eyed Espada stated as if was the most obvious thing in the world.

"W-what?" Grimmjaw stuttered, unsure if he heard it right. Somehow, he wished that he didn't. The Sexta Espada didn't want to face that question too soon. He was just not ready yet. He didn't even knew the answer to that himself. Oh, no. He did, but the reason was just absurd.

"You heard me."

Grimmjaw snapped **back to reality** when he heard someone knocking on his door. He stepped out of the showers and flinched when the cold air hit his skin just after being tortured by the hot water. He cursed himself from his stupidity and then snatched a towel to cover himself. With a towel around his waist, he approached the door and scowled at the small man he found standing behind it.

"What?" he growled, lifting an arm to press against the door frame.

Ulquiorra closed his eyes for a while, and then opened them again, inclining his head to meet the taller man's gaze. "Aizen-sama called a meeting."

"Oh? Damn, I forgot about that." The seis Espada sighed, pressing a hand over his forehead. "Did he send ya here?"

Grimmjaw turned around, walking back inside his room and to his closet. Green eyes followed his exposed body, concentrated on the deep evidence of slashes and pierces of sharp objects. Most were still fresh, weeping and open, while a few were already healed, deep and dark. Most of the wounds had incredible lengths, diagonal slashes covering as much skin as it could. Some came across another, almost making an abstract image on the tan skin.

"No," The Cuatra Espada narrows his eyes, and then closes them gently. "He didn't."

"That's a first." The Sexta Espada looked over his shoulder, eying the frail man standing silently on his doorway. Ulquiorra had always been so small, but had he gone thinner? In Grimmjaw's blue eyes, he found it obvious. Not that Ulquiorra used to any bigger than he was then, he really was losing weight. "Is he still touching you?"

"Why do you ask?" the dark-haired Espada stepped in without a sound, walking to the broad back that faced him. It had patches of dark skin, bruises… scars. He reached out to it, his fingers gently meeting the warm skin. Ulquiorra felt the body jerk under his light touch, and lifted his eyes to meet warm blue ones looking back at him.

"Curiosity."

Ulquiorra traced a long open wound an felt the body twitch. "When did you get this one?""

"Just yesterday." Grimmjaw rolled his head, flexing his shoulders, and closed his eyes. His thoughts followed were the cold finger went on his back. He hadn't had this kind of contact before. All he was used to was the fierce punches and kicks, and nothing like this. It felt strange, but it wasn't all bad. It felt nice somehow, and even though he didn't understand what he really felt, he didn't mind it for once. It was just Ulquiorra touching him… how bad could it possible be?

The cuatro Espada furrowed his brows. Grimmjaw was surely reacting weirdly to his touch. All he did was trace the wounded skin, and it wasn't as if he was giving it any special attention at all. He was just touching it. Only touching. It was just curiosity, or a natural reaction of his that he didn't manage to stop before happening. He wasn't doing anything special, but somehow, he wanted to feel more of it with his hands.

Ulquiorra pressed both of his hands against the blemished skin, getting his white skin stained by the fresh blood flowing freely like sweat. He felt the body warm against his touch, was this what it felt like to hold someone? Humans seemed to be quite fond of it, maybe this was the reason behind it. He couldn't blame the humans for liking it, somehow. He didn't knew why he liked it, but he didn't he hate it.. so it was okay. His skin had always been so cold, maybe the foreign feeling of warmth made him long for more.

"Warm." Grimmjaw groaned, rolling his head back.

The smaller Arrancar stepped forward, leaning his head against the bare back. Wasn't Grimmjaw the one who was warm, and he was cold? Then, why did Grimmjaw say that it was warm? Ulquiorra always felt so cold, like he wasn't in the middle of a desert called Hueco Mundo. He always felt like he was submerged in ice... in water that is non-existent in their world that _his_ lord had somehow managed to produce great amounts of.

"Ulqui--OW!" Grimmjaw jerked away, cutting a supposed moan or purr. He was starting to relax and feel great, but something suddenly sent sharp pain throughout his body. It was like was electrecuted, but it seemed a bit worse than that. He could handle getting zapped by electricity. Szayel did that once to him, that was why he knew. The sensation was almost the same, but somehow different. The seis Espada turned around and saw a bloody finger pointed at him. "What in the fucking hell was that shit for!?"

"You weren't listening."

"So what, sick dipshit!?" Grimmjaw growled, looking over his shoulder and checking if he was bleeding any worse than he usually did. His wounds already hurt. They throb all the time, and it makes his head ache too. For a moment, he thought Ulquiorra was actually helping him relax, but having a finger inside a fresh wound was far from relaxation. "Damn it! That fucking stung!"

Ulquiorra stepped forward and wiped the blood off his finger against Grimmjaw's exposed cheek. He stared back impassively at the scowling seis Espada, eyes locked in silence. They stayed liked that for a while, like they always had outside this room. They had been together ever since that night every day, but they never talked. They only looked at each other, seemingly hoping for the other to make the move closer.

"What the fuck are you staring at now?" The cuatra Espada opened his hands and cupped the taller one's face, the blood smearing all over Grimmjaw's face. The blood was warm on the seis Espada's cheek, but Ulquiorra's hand was warmer. A lot warmer. He turned his head to it and pressed a hand against Ulquiorra's to trap it between his hand and face with his frown suddenly gone. Grimmjaw's face fell clear of any emotion, waiting for the smaller Arrancar to put whatever he wanted to see in his face.

"What are we exactly?" Grimmjaw asked softly, curling his fingers around the Cuatra's thin hand. _Answer me if you don't want to let go._

"We... are Arrancars, soldiers and servants of war."

"I wasn't referring to that."

"What were you referring to, then?"

"Us." He stepped forward, "Just the two of us."

"Cuatra... and Sexta Espada."

"No. Not that." Grimmjaw drew closer, holding the small face firmly with his other hand. _Kiss me if you like my face so much._

"I don't know what you want me to say. So, tell me what you want to hear." Ulquiorra stepped back, moving away from Grimmjaw's face. The blue-haired Espada kept on following him, lips desperately looking for another pair. He had seen _his_ lord act this way before, and it was always during before those... 'trials' that he called. "Do you want to hear that... I love you?"

Grimmjaw froze, eyes wide and round. His lips were parted a bit, but all that came in and out of them were air. He wanted to say something, wanted to deny that but he couldn't. He felt cold all over, colder than he should be. He didn't want to hear Ulquiorra tell him those words, but if not that, then what did he want to hear?

_Hurt me if you don't want me._ Grimmjaw's face fell down. Was that really what he wanted to hear? Had Ulquiorra managed to figure it all out for him?

"Pathetic."

The seis Espada's teeth clashed together in an angry growl and threw his fist to the smaller Espada, forcing him to the ground. He glared at him, anger burning intensly inside. Ulquiorra's voice went over and over on his head, mocking his very being. He was playing with him, crushing his pride and feelings. His chest heaved, breathing suddenly became hard. He was sweating cold, very cold.

_Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic._

"Trash." Ulquiorra muttered as he wiped the blood from his lips.

_Pathetic trash. Obstreperous Trash. Impervous Ingrate. Pathetic. Pathetic. Trash. Trash. Trash!_

Grimmjaw thought back of the things he troubled himself over, the things he promised himself, the gestures he refrained himself from doing, every single thing he changed within himself, and that distinct feeling in his chest... he knew there was a reason and there was only one of it. Now, someone else just told him what it was and if that really was it, then he didn't mind. He was in denial, of course, because he just wasn't sure. He didn't want to jump into conclusions and regret them later. But all was cleared with what he heard, and with that he could finally clear things up and admit it. Although even how much he didn't want to believe it at first, he knew he wasn't supposed to get this in return.

The Sexta Espada bent over and picked his superior with his collar, raising him up and glaring at him as if he could melt him with it. He ground his teeth, irritated at how those green eyes looked down at him. He moved his hand up to the thin neck and curled them around. He growled again and then slammed Ulquiorra to the wall.

_Was it too much to ask?_

"I hate you!" He roared, falling down on his knees and trapping the frail body between his legs. "I fucking hate you!" He threw his fists at the dark-haired Espada, punching the pale face over and over, but Ulquiorra didn't even tried to guard or block. He felt more inferior then, because he wasn't being acknowledged. He wasn't even enough to be fought against. He was that pathetic... that was what Ulquiorra wanted to tell him in not defending himself. He was that low, that worthless.

"I'm going to kill you!" Grimmjaw bared his teeth, pulling Pantera out of his sheathe. "I'm going to fucking kill you!"

Despite his threats, all Ulquiorra did was stare at him. Stare through him, through his eyes, through his existence. He wasn't even worth looking at, not worth listening to... not worth knowing that he existed.

"Did you hear me, you bastard!?" He yelled as he drove Pantera on the floor an inch away from Ulquiorra's impassive face. He barely missed, but he had no intentions of ruining that face just yet. He lifted his fist, a threat for another shower of punches and bruises. "I'm going to kill you! Are you deaf!? Say something, you shit!"

"You won't kill me."

"Feh. What the fuck made you think that?" Grimmjaw wrapped his fingers around Ulquiorra's frail neck while he wrapped the other around Pantera's blade and cut himself. He raised it and started concentrating his reiatsu there, emitting some bright red light. The seis Espada's eyes narrowed, and his jaw hardened. He was determined to blow his superior's head off with the Cero that only they were allowed to use. Consequences be damned.

"You..." Ulquiorra lifted a finger, pointing it at Grimmjaw's chest. "...can't kill the person you love."

_They use it to keep each other warm, because you don't let your mate fucking freeze to death. Try to stick it in that little brain of yours, so I don't have to pity the poor female that will get stuck and fucked by you more than I already plan to. When you love someone, you do everything to keep them alive._ His own voice echoed in his head. He was the one who told Ulquiorra that, he was the one who taught him that.

"You..." He gritted his teeth, "You piece of... fucked up little shit." Grimmjaw's head fell. "I hate you. I mean it, you bastard. I fucking hate you. How can you do this to me?" Grimmjaw's voice weakened, own hands falling before him like he was a marrionette whose strings were now cut. "I... I can't believe you. But maybe you're right. I just... I don't know. What the hell did you do to me?"

"Grimmjaw,"

The blue-haired Espada lifted his face, a very very broken expression on his face. He probably looked so pathetic, but he didn't care. He just couldn't take it anymore. He just... wanted to let it all go. He shook his head, falling back down again to hide from cold green eyes. _I can't believe that you were the one teaching me what the fuck it really is... all this time. All this fucking time._

Ulquiorra lifted a hand, touching Grimmjaw's face. It was cold. Why was Grimmjaw cold?

"You're right." Grimmjaw whispered. "That was really what I wanted to hear. I want to hear you say it again. Tell me that you mean it."

"Grimmjaw,"

"Fuck!" He snapped, "Just please tell me what I want to hear! I'm not in the mood for your intellectual shit."

Ulquiorra just stared.

"Say it." Grimmjaw repeated, but Ulquiorra didn't even budge. "I'M BEGGING YOU TO SAY IT! Say you fucking feel the same! I don't want to be the only one! Please, say it. Fucking tell it to my face! Tell me you love me, damn it! TELL ME!"

"I don't." Ulquiorra replied... with a very small whisper.

"What?"

"I don't want to lie."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Guys, sorry for the long wait. I was busy writing **6 - FOuR - 15**. It's the story with the GrimmIchiUlqui love triangle, and its first chapter is halfway done. Really. It's full of OOC-ness, but not the type of OOC that they go around squeeling like pigs. It's just to the extent that we could all fine humorous, 'cause Ichi has his inner self problems like Haruno Sakura. So, well. I need some help there. I need to know what the Japanese people call stalkers.

I found a beta! Kneel before oh, great **beppin 14**! But s/he hasn't beta-ed this chapter yet... because, I couldn't contact her. Beppin, my labs, your private messaging is disabled and replying on reviews were restricted only once by FF . Net I have no idea how to contact you. Please, send me a message.. my PMs is enabled or you can e-mail me directly at fenjien_ren yahoo . com ...Very easy to remember, ne? XD

**Answers to some reviews and PMs.. xD**

This is quite a fast paced story, so feel free to ask questions. I can't do a chapter per lesson because that would take me up to... 10 chapters or more. So, keep in mind that by the end of this chapter, already a month or two had passed. I'll fill up the holes in the following chapter since Grimmjaw's going to reflect on them, so there's going to be a lot of my most hated chapter breaks in there.

Question one. Grimmjaw had been quite possessive of Ulquiorra even against Aizen. Everytime Aizen goes near Ulquiorra, Grimmjaw yells, curses or whatever Grimmjaw always does when he's angry. Of course, Grimm gets punished for it. Tousen had been the one who had done those slashings on his back (in the name of Aizen... and justice, somehow. XDD)

Question two. Yes, I did kind of forgot Ulquiorra's favorite word. I'm surprised that someone only managed to point out that Ulquiorra hadn't been calling Grimm 'trash' on the third chapter. XD

That is all for now. Okay, so thank you for reading... and feel free to ask any question! Feel free to send me some friendly mail, too! :D


	5. Fifth Secret

**TITLE:** Our Greatest Secret  
**AUTHOR:** Fen Jien Ren**  
BETA-READER:** ChiharuSato22

**ANIME: **Bleach  
**DISCLAIMERS:** Tite Kubo owns Bleach and all its characters.

**SUMMARY:** Grimmjaw offers to teach Ulquiorra the things that the Cuatra regarded as unnecessary.  
**WARNINGS:** Yaoi, lemon, and unintentional OOC-ness.  
**PAIRING/S and CHARACTERS: **GrimmUlqui, Ichimaru Gin, Sousuke Aizen

* * *

**CHAPTER FIVE**

* * *

Silence devoured their forms, drowning their distinct hear beats with its deafening silence. Two figures clad in white were frozen on the spot, not an action was made nor was a muscle constricted. They stayed like that for a moment, perhaps gauging each other for whatever that would happen for the next couple of minutes. It had been long, felt like eternity with the heaviness that there was on the air, but that wasn't the truth. It was just seconds ago when he felt like everything he had ever worked for had started crumbling before his eyes, when he felt like he was getting burned alive, when he felt someone rip out his insides, or in all truth, when he heard him say:

"I don't want to lie."

Just a few words and yet it made his defenses fall down like an empire engulfed by hell's fire. He felt himself shiver, coldness overwhelming him or maybe it was just the pain. He closed his mouth, pressing his dry lips together, and shifted uncomfortably.

"I don't want to be the only one." The Sexta Espada weakly whispered, his grip tightening around the other's frail neck and his shoulders slumping. He closed his eyes and shook his head, repeating the last thing he said in his mind over and over like a prayer. Who was he praying to? He didn't know, but he was praying for himself and himself alone. He didn't care if Ulquiorra hated him, he didn't care if nobody liked it except for him, and he didn't care about the consequences it might bring, because all he cared about was for the pain to go away. He didn't want any of it, but if it won't hurt, then he guessed it would be okay.

_Why can't you lie?_

A string of words had cut him deep, had broken something that can never be rebuilt. He used to be strong, everybody knew that and not because they were forced to put that in their heads, but because they believe so as well. Grimmjow is a frightening man--powerful, violent, and instinctive. No body would say otherwise because it was a universal fact that the Sexta Espada is not a man anyone would ever want to mess with. Knowing that, it is simply absurd to even wonder if the man could cry.

"Grimmjow,"

"Shut up."

Grimmjow would bury his head if he could in the given position he was in. He wanted to hide, to be unseen by everyone regardless if he knew them or not. In some sense, he hoped to disappear. If he could melt, if he could burst, if there was anything he was capable to do to be able to be gone within a second, he would do just that. He didn't want anyone to see him right now.

Crystallites formed in the corner of his eyes, threatening to melt and to flow down his cheeks, but he forced them back. Why? Because Grimmjow Jaegerjaques did not cry. He hardened his jaw, fighting back whatever that was that was pushing up his throat to be released. It was hard, but he just couldn't let them rip through his throat. Ulquiorra had seen enough of his vulnerability, enough of his life, enough of his pain, and it was so foolish to think that it could be understood.

"Grimmjow," pale hands reached out to touch the other's exposed cheek, his thumb brushing the warm skin lightly. He saw those eyes, caught them glistening with something he had seen those human children shed, but he couldn't understand why Grimmjow didn't. Why Grimmjow did not let them pour like those children had done. "Does it hurt?"

Said man did not answer for he continued to struggle with himself, with his weakness, with his pain and with the punishment he bestowed upon himself. Hollows don't love. Why did he think he could? Why did he tell someone that he had? Why did he believe that he fell for, out of all the people, for Ulquiorra Schiffer?

He choked with a sob he failed to control, and then broke into a bitter fit of laughter. He took his hand from the other's neck and raised it to cover his lips. He hung his head in shame, his laughter hiding the sobs he failed to hide. His shoulders shook, but he still forced to laugh. Still trying desperately to be together in one piece, to be strong, to be someone everyone had ever feared. Still, Grimmjow was no match for his superior. It was simply impossible to overpower someone who was two ranks higher than you. Thinking or trying was simply absurd.

Grimmjow hid his eyes, closing them tight. He didn't want to cry, but he just couldn't keep them in. The tears fell, but he kept them hidden. He fell over, almost hitting his superior with his head, but kept himself steady with the grip he had on Pantera's hilt. He hardened his jaw, grinding his teeth like he wanted to break every single one that he had.

He tightened his grip, his whole body tensing. He carefully let himself completely fall over his superior, pressing his face against the other's chest. How could he let himself be dragged down so low like this? Where was the proud person he once was? Where was the Sexta Espada? He couldn't be the one shedding tears right now.

He straightened his back and searched for the hollow green orbs of his superior. He swallowed the lump on his throat and wiped his eyes with his knuckles, not wanting to waste any more of them. He choked with another sob, his defenses threatening to break all over again but he secured it this time, holding it close and tight.

"Why does it matter?" Grimmjow asked.

It would mean a lot to him if it does, if Ulquiorra would say he cared even just a bit or even not for him specifically, at least he knew the other could care. If the answer he got just so happens to be favorable to him, then wouldn't it be easier to fight longer? Or maybe it would make him feel a lot better, since he had stirred something inside the stoic one? Maybe if that was the case, he could accept things and just tell himself that it was the best that could be done. But it had always been maybes, but he guessed it was alright. It should be alright.

It was hard to be strong, so hard to be the person that he claimed that he was. Claimed. Was everything really just claiming, or was it real? Right now, was he really crying or was he just acting like a dog to gain pity or the love that he wanted to have? Why was he crying? Was it for the love or for the pain? Where was Grimmjow Jaegerjaques? Where is the strength of the Sexta Espada?

"It doesn't."

But like always, like before, Ulquiorra felt nothing... nothing at all. All his pain, all his sacrifices, all the simple memories made and brought together by the both of them, they were all meaningless to those green eyes that he had so learned to like being gazed upon. It was foolish to hope. How many times would he tell himself that before he remembered it? He had fooled himself long enough, hoped hard enough, and shamed his name enough with being a creature of emotions.

"Then don't ask." He said, his defenses completely gone without a trace. When he spoke, he struggled to keep his voice whole and strong and it was hard, and when he glared, he feared for his pain to flow out of his eyes and it was unbearable. Ever since the night Ulquiorra first knocked on his door, everything seemed to be so painful and weakening. Even the simplest ones became brain draining, and the usual things killed him.

"Leave." He choked, the fountain inside him already spilling and it threatened to flow once again through his eyes. He scowled, his jaw and fist clenched tight, and glared down at the smaller one that lied before his existence and mercy. He will not have more of this. No more...

..._God, please. No more._He was never the type to plead, to kneel, to submit or even to accept defeat. He was a warrior, a soldier because that's what Arrancars are while Hollows are plain killers. Hollows are instinctive animals. While Grimmjow still listened to his instincts than to reasoning, he was completely steps higher than plain Hollows. Grimmjow was complicated like any other person, but he was also simple all the same. Like everyone else, there's only a level of pain that he could tolerate.

_Fucking please._

And this was all too much for him, for him alone. He stood up with his wobbly legs, not breaking his eye contact with his superior. He stepped away, cautiously moving and slowly breathing. His chest hurt like any other time when he saw Ulquiorra broken or breaking, but right now there was a different reason. For the first time, he was hurting for himself, for his heart, for that one thing he didn't have.

Ulquiorra was still on the floor, but now he was sitting with his legs folded in front of him going to one side. He looked up at him, green eyes scanning all over the shivering physique. "Why does it hurt?"

He looked over his shoulder and saw his superior standing up to his own feet with his hands also on his pockets with the poise he always had. He gritted his teeth, nose wrinkling in disgust, and growled, "You've always been the smart one, haven't you? And yet it's always more often than not that you listen to your own decisions. So, for once, use your head and use it well on this."

Ulquiorra's dark lined eyes narrowed dangerously, showing an emotion aside from fear. "I don't remember a time when I'm inclined to listen to everyone but myself."

"Really? That's fucking funny. I remember a time when you spread your legs for me."

For a split second, Ulquiorra was nowhere in sight... As if he blinked and then appeared right in front of him, just a few inches from Grimmjow's face with a finger poking at his chest. The tip of the black-colored nail lit up, green reiatsu concentrating on it.

"Go ahead," Grimmjow growled, taking the hand even closer to him. "Blow my fucking chest off. At least then, I don't have to get pissed off every time I see your ugly face!"

Ulquiorra simply continued to stare, as if analyzing all things once again. Was he wondering what would the consequences be if he fires his cero or was it about something else? For a few minutes that had been dragged to last like hours, the Cuatra Espada pulled back, hiding his hands back to his pockets, and headed to walk out the door.

"Trash."

Grimmjow watched the slender body walking out of his door and shutting it silently. He raised a hand to his chest, clawing the slightly burned skin that the energy of Ulquiorra's cero had reached. "What the fuck was that?!" He growled.

But he got nothing in return, feeling that he was the most inferior in the whole world. There were times that Ulquiorra wouldn't look at him, and these past few days, they were lessening. These past few days, he actually felt he was starting to be something or someone on those green eyes, but then again, he turned out wrong. He was nothing still, but he couldn't take that. He couldn't possibly take that.

"Stop walking away from me!" Grimmjow screamed.

Still, those eyes did not turn his way and that wasn't what's supposed to happen. Ulquiorra was supposed to stay and to take back what he said that he didn't feel the same. Grimmjow wasn't supposed to be alone anymore, he wasn't supposed to feel pain and break down like a creature that lived for emotions.

The Sexta Espada fell down to his knees, gaining strength to break, to let go, to cry, to be humane. It was something hard to do, but somehow he did. He fell over, his face hitting the floor. Blood gushed out of his broken skin on his forehead, but he didn't care. The physical pain was no match to the pain he was feeling in his chest.

_What have you done to me?_

He cried, stretching his jaw until it started to hurt. He slammed his fists, his head, his whole self against the walls and floors, but the pain just wouldn't overcome his heartache. Everything started to hurt, and only then did he lose all the power to move even his fingers. He fell flat on the middle of his room that suddenly felt so cold.

Outside, just outside the door, the Cuatra Espada still stood, listening to the deafening lullaby of Grimmjow's despair. He thought he knew despair, but why had he not felt this helpless before? Had he been blinded, or had he simply ignored it once again? Like how he played fool for the first few nights he had submitted himself to his lord. He didn't know such sounds could be made, sounds that could bring him to feel such discomfort.

Turning his head to one corner, he caught a glimpse of a familiar smile in the shadows. Ulquiorra pulled his mind and attention from Grimmjow's room and walked towards the familiar entity, preparing himself to serve his lord.

"Learnin' lots, Cuatra Espada-chan?"

Ignoring the new addition to the title, Ulquiorra walked passed the ever smiling shinigami. He walked through hallways and turned on corners silently as he ignored his supposed superior who followed just a few steps away, mimicking each step he took. Eventually, his lord's chambers came to his view and then, the follower took his ground.

"Ya sure 'bout this?" came the disgustingly playful voice of Aizen's second-in-command as the smile that graced his lips widened even more. Ulquiorra gracefully turned, facing the smile-masked shinigami. "I warned yer li'l kitty."

"I don't think I understand, Ichimaru...sama."

"Oh?" His thin brows went up, as if questioning the Espada's reply. Gin's smile grew even wider, if possible, as he took his playful strides closer to the dark-haired Espada. His hands went out of their hiding from his long sleeves and went up to wipe the blood from the cut Ulquiorra didn't know he had just below his green eyes. "If ya say it like that, yer gonna make me feel like it ain't my business."

Silence came after.

"No reply?" Gin worriedly said with a pout, moving back a little.

The green-eyed Arrancar continued to hold his tongue, firm about not giving any reply to the superior. For a while, all he did was stare at the face, that face that never seemed to feel exhaustion or anything else at all. Ulquiorra's eyes shrunk a little, putting edges at his cold eyes, and turned his body away.

"Where are ya goin', Cuatra-chan?"

Not being able to step away from the growing reiatsu of the white-clothed shinigami, Ulquiorra looked over his shoulder, staring impassively at his silver-haired superior. He began releasing his own reiatsu in a fine radius just so he wouldn't suffocate due to the foreign energy. Nobody really knew how strong this shinigami really was, but regardless, Ulquiorra deemed him not too dangerous at the moment and decided to fight him back. Besides, his lord obviously won't be pleased to lose such high-ranking knights. "With all due respect, Ichimaru-sama."

"Mm?"

"Stay away from this." and with that, Ulquiorra continued his trek to the very source of his despair, pushing the large white doors open as he passed soundlessly. As the door closed with an eerie silence, the Cuatra Espada felt and was sure that those hidden eyes bore holes on his fragile existence.

**X - X - X - X**

"_Grimmjow?"_

He shifted in his sleep, groaning softly. He fell asleep by the time all his strength was drained out from him by all his screaming and crying. He wasn't sure if nobody heard him, wasn't even sure if all that he did to himself had worked well on keeping himself sane. If anything, he even felt worse and his chest felt heavier than ever. It seemed that there really was no escape to the pain that he gave onto himself.

"_If I need any help..."_

The Sexta Espada stirred again in his sleep, turning to the other side as he clenched the sheets under his hand's grip. Sweating coldly and breathing shallow with short breathes, his brows furrowed as his every muscle started twitching in awful pain. It was like he was burning, or he was touched by those hands again.

"_...just what if I do..."_

His blue eyes shot open, sitting up abruptly that he almost got hurt all by himself. Grimmjow turned to the side of his bed, not really sure about what he was looking for there, but was slightly troubled that he found himself alone. Was he lonely?

_Oh, fuck that._

Somebody was knocking again on his door or was that the sound that was actually something else? Now, Grimmjow couldn't care any less. All that he had done was more than enough

. No more running after someone, or begging or praying or anything at all! He turned to the side, putting his feet down to the freezing marble floor.

"_...would you come to me?"_

Ulquiorra's voice haunted him in his sleep, with his memories, with his pain, and with his love. Grimmjow woke up so he could escape from them, but why hadn't they stopped? He gritted his teeth, trapping his head in between his hands and tried to crush it. Finding such as pointless, he transferred his hold to his hair, pulling them back and off his head.

The voice that whispered to him was clear and soft, also as cold as Ulquiorra usually was, but for Grimmjow, who had gotten used to it, had found it comforting but tormenting at the same time. Why couldn't it just leave him alone? Everything had ended hours before, and he was the one to blame. Why couldn't he just leave things the way that they were? Even without saying those words, Grimmjow was sure he was already happy. Just being by his side, that was the only thing that mattered.

They had been spending nights together for so long, maybe if they kept count, he might've been sure it had been for a few months. But a few months had always been a long time for hollows if it refers to a length of relationship of some kind. Hollows never used to seek companions, but why was he now?

"_Grimmjow,"_

Putting his elbows down to his knees, he cradled his face like a helpless child they saw one night, and like the human, he was in pain... in terrible pain once again. But unlike him, he had no one to take comfort from. Ulquiorra was away, who could possibly care more than he could?

"_Help? Yeah, sure."_ his own voice resounded in his head, the scenario playing before his closed eyes distinctively like the Cuatra Espada was sharing it with him.

But since when could Ulquiorra care? Grimmjow didn't manage to teach him that much, but even if he did his best, he was sure Ulquiorra was just impossible to learn such a thing. Maybe pain was the only thing the Cuatra Espada knew, but if that's the case, would that mean he knew how to ease it as well?

"_Do you promise?"_

"_Yes, I promise. Just fucking call and I'll come save you."_

**X - X - X - X**

The fabric between worlds was torn, thread by thread it opened slowly and gave way to the two figures in white. The larger one stepped out, first graced by the sky's tears. Grimmjow looked up, thinking maybe it was that time of the year again when almost every day the rain comes to pour. On the other hand, Ulquiorra, who followed suit, was a little shaken by the freezing droplets falling from the sky. As the time they spend under its mercy dragged longer and longer, the Cuatra Espada felt weaker and weaker.

"G-g-grimm...j-jow."

The Sexta Espada turned to his superior with a grin, feeling the awkwardness that graced Ulquiorra's voice and skin. The green-eyed Espada was shivering so much that it was evident to anyone's eyes, especially to Grimmjow's. It never rained in the desert called Hueco Mundo, so it was an expected reaction to say the least.

"Let's go."

Cocking his head to the side, Grimmjow flew to the first shelter his eyes caught and behind him was the still shivering Espada. From the moment they reached their temporary base, Ulquiorra walked to the darkest and the driest corner of the alley as Grimmjow shed his dripping uniform.

"What are you doing?" Ulquiorra asked, eying the inferior Espada dangerously.

Grimmjow ignored the other, settling down at the opening. He looked out and watched the rain fall down and produce flood to certain places his eyes managed to reach. He saw couples, children, families who, despite the weather, appeared so happy. If Ulquiorra saw it, would he wonder why they felt that way? Grimmjow didn't know the answer to that if he was asked of that. He didn't know what exactly the things that made the humans happy were. He never really felt the emotion personally yet. And he wondered, would he ever get the chance to?

He thought not. So far, all that he knew was that happiness felt by the humans were brought by other humans, which was highly unlikely to happen to hollows. Their kind doesn't really bunch up and do trivial things together such as those that he sees humans do. They were, of course—a lot different, although Arrancars had been granted the ability to feel... or maybe not?

Turning back to look further inside the dark alley, Grimmjow caught sight of his superior's sword reflecting the light that came from outside. From the way he saw it, Ulquiorra slid off his zanpakuto from his waist and leaned it over his shoulder as if holding it in his arms. The green-eyed Espada was still shaking so violently as well.

Ulquiorra never seemed to feel anything except when he feels rather threatened in a specific way that the Espada suddenly loses all his senses and strength to defend himself. Other than that, it was obviously hopeless for him to feel anything.

Ulquiorra. Ulquiorra still didn't seem to trust him. It pained him a bit, but Grimmjow just couldn't bring himself to blame him. After all, how many times had he tried to break him? And just now, those green-eyes already looked so scared when he took off his jacket. He did that just because he was cold, but the Cuatra Espada already looked so terrified and trapped.

Standing up, Grimmjow had enough of taking in his superior's shaking form. It was just not normal to see him that way, and so he didn't like it. Whenever Ulquiorra showed anything other than annoyance towards him and maybe even curiosity, he couldn't stand it. It was just not him, and he didn't like Ulquiorra when he wasn't 'him'.

"Take them off." He said with a commanding tone, making the other look up at him. "Your clothes. Take them off."

Ulquiorra simply stared at him like he wasn't there or he wasn't existing. Soon, as Grimmjow decided to just do it and not repeat it anymore, the green eyes that were usually empty and cold turned into the embodiment of his pain and despair. His shivering became no longer the fault of only the weather but also of fear.

Grimmjow carefully slid his superior's zipper down, exposing the chest, without bothering to look at the pale one. To him, Ulquiorra could be such a baby sometimes that there were things he just couldn't do and comprehend, and that was what he thought of it then. He forgot the fact that what he was doing was what frightened the other the most, and with every time his skin brushed against the others, Ulquiorra lost his powers that made him Espada.

Ulquiorra closed his eyes, hearing his lord's voice whispering in his ear, and let the blue-haired Espada do whatever he wanted to him. He was weakened by the awful weather, and further weakened by the fear that crept up his skin. Every time he was touched, regardless of whom, he had long figured that his body's natural reaction was to shut down. It was the only escape he found from his lord, because running away was just pointless. Obeying orders and pushing everything out of his mind made things easier and faster, and so it was the only thing he learned to do.

"_Are you up for another test, Ulquiorra?"_ Aizen's cold voice echoed in his ear, making him shiver. _"I own you. Your life... Your very existence. You owe them all to me, so give me your undying loyalty. Play this game with me."_

Ulquiorra gasped, feeling Grimmjow's warm hand on his skin. He opened his eyes, revealing all his pain and fears. In those green orbs, he pleaded and prayed. He didn't want any of it, not anymore of it. But he, Aizen-sama, had asked him to do this—to not fight, to submit without questions... to spread his legs to anyone who asked.

"_...whore."_

Grimmjow. It was Grimmjow who said that.

"_Who would like them?"_

All hope and thoughts abandoned him, letting his body go upon instinct. Ulquiorra moved his arms out of his sleeves, helping the Sexta Espada in taking of his clothes. As soon as his top uniform was off, he closed his eyes again and wrapped his arms around Grimmjow's neck, leaning his forehead on those warm broad shoulders. It was what Aizen loved the most, so it was what he always did.

"_I hate you."_

Ulquiorra didn't need to be loved, because he knew even if he wanted it, he wouldn't get any. He was simply a creature that just couldn't receive it. He was just not someone who needed it to fall down to his knees. All he needed was orders, all he needed was a few touches and he'd completely submit to anyone because that was what he was taught. Closing his eyes, he waited for Grimmjow to lead and tightened his hold.

"_No matter what happens,"_ Aizen told him, _"Without orders, you can not fight back."_

The Cuatra Espada never though Grimmjow would be different, and even if he did, he was sure the other was a thousand times worse than his lord. So he braced himself for whatever that was to come. He readied himself for all the possible pain that might throw all his senses away. He prepared himself for the words that would come that would break him more than he was already but none of it came, and then he realized.

"Warm." He whispered as he held the Sexta tighter.

"'s the only thing I could think of. I just couldn't take seeing you like that but," Grimmjow paused, "if you feel that uncomfortable..."

It was the first time Ulquiorra felt so good while being held. He always thought that pain was the only thing that accompany being in someone's arms, but there he was, holding on even tighter than he held his zanpakuto's hilt and hoping for the sensation in his chest to live forever. If his lord could just hold him like this, then maybe things would be different but there was something he couldn't understand. Why couldn't Aizen hold him like this?

"Don't."

Aizen held him thousands of times, but it always hurt. Grimmjow, it was the first time he held him, and yet he felt so fine and serene being in his arms. It was the same thing, the same gesture but it made him feel two different things. How could it be so different but look so alike?

"Don't let go."

* * *

**Fen:** Eeh, sorry if this took so long. This had only been overdue since I kind of lost my chicken scratches and chicken translators, turning everything into foods that my migraine just so happens to love. I also blame school and college exams and enrolments, they drained the life out of me. But, no problem! It's won't be long till this ends. I think there's going to be two to four chapters more? Maximum of ten. It's the best that I could do. :)

* * *

**Yaoi-fun-fan**: Happy to be an influence! I love AiGin, too, although I enjoy the pairing more on doujinshis than on fics. Maybe I just haven't found the right fic for me. Anyway, there was some AiGin which should be playing a very large part later on when I first thought of this story, but I'm not sure if I would still be able to include that. Gin will still be here, though, that's for sure.

**Ghost of the Darkness**: oh, it is a GrimmUlqui. You'll just have to read in the end how that happened...and I hope it wouldn't make you hate Aizen (if you already do, then there will be no problem, you'll just hate him even more).

**Lia-Osaka92**, and **Greentail**: don't kill me, because if you do, you won't get any sequel. Yes, I'm blackmailing you, but please, feel free to cry another time. XD

**Bookenworum**: I love reviewers like you, hence my greatest appreciation to the one you sent me with all the comments and such. Thank you for that and for wanting to read more of this fic!

**ChiharuSato22**: Yes, you are one of my crying ladies, I did not forget. I just wanted to tell you too that I appreciate the review you sent me. Sadly, I don't have other GrimmUlqui works at the moment, but I'm currently working on one. :)

**Horserulee12**: Of course, I'll finish it. The reason why I did this is because they aren't much completed GrimmUlqui fics out there. XD


	6. Sixth Secret

**TITLE:** Our Greatest Secret  
**AUTHOR:** Fen Jien Ren**  
BETA READER:** ChiharuSato22

**ANIME: **Bleach  
**DISCLAIMERS:** Tite Kubo owns Bleach and all its characters.

**SUMMARY:** Grimmjow offers to teach Ulquiorra the things that the Quatra regarded as unnecessary.  
**PAIRING/S and CHARACTERS: **GrimmUlqui, Ichimaru Gin, Sousuke Aizen

**WARNING:** Smut up ahead. Not too descriptive, but that is considering the stuff I've read. This is my third pitiful try, so don't expect much. Also, prepare your hearts for Ulquiorra. It's not a tear jerking chapter, but it's a little bit depressing and it has a little bit of cutesy crap, too. Forgive me if it's too cheesy, and please don't kill Aizen. I like him.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Before reading this, remember that Ulquiorra went to Aizen right after Grimmjow's (super, mega failed) confession in the previous chapter. This is what happened then. There are more of the super _timely_ cliff hangers and for that everyone is allowed to kill me.

**IMPORTANT: **Despite the chapter break, everything happened successively. You must know by now that I don't do flashbacks by putting chapter breaks here and there, except for in the fifth chapter. Everything was so fucked up there.

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX**

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Tonight was one of the nights Ulquiorra cursed his existence. It was those nights that he regretted being strong and that he had not lost his sense of self. It would've been better if he didn't know what was going on. Maybe death or insanity was truly the only way out of this, but he wasn't really ready for either of those. There was still something he wanted to find out.

His cries came with short breaths, encouraging his lord even further, but the one thing he really wanted his lord to do was to stop. If he could just be permitted to voice out his thoughts, if he was even allowed to think of anything else at the moment, he would plead for the end of this torture, for his death. He was suffering with something his body couldn't cure, and maybe it was because he had never been given the time to. It was so painful that sometimes he feels like it was blowing his mind away, and that he couldn't think of anything else but the pain and the accidental pleasure that sometimes comes with it.

He raised a hand to his lips, gripping his jaw tightly to hold back the screams that fought their way up his chest. He threw his head to the side and screwed his eyes shut, struggling to keep the noises from tearing through his throat. It was a sound he never liked, and he knew he would never grow accustomed to it. Before Grimmjow came to him, every night he would hear himself making these sounds and he hated it. He hated it that sometimes he couldn't believe he was the one doing them, but Aizen told him he liked them. Honestly, Ulquiorra tried to and even looked for whatever was likeable about it, but he didn't find any. He hated it still.

With the pain embracing his body as the force against his entrance became stronger and stronger, he found it useless to keep them inside. Even though he hated it, he knew for a fact that letting go made things a lot easier. So as he parted his lips and put his hands down to the mattress, he tried to relax and just let his lord do whatever he pleases. It was going to be faster that way, or so he hoped.

Warm arms went under his back, embracing and hoisting him up. Ulquiorra's cheek landed softly on his lord's damp shoulder. Followed by his weakened arms to wrap around the neck, Aizen gripped on his hair, forcing his head back and giving space for his lord to attack his neck. Ulquiorra groaned when he felt that familiar feeling inside his body and the wetness of the ex-shinigami's mouth on the joint of his neck and shoulders. He gasped, getting that faint traces of pleasure pumping inside him.

"Ulquiorra," the brown-haired shinigami breathed against the freezing skin, pushing both of them back down on the bed. Shifting a little, he placed one of his favourite Espada's leg on one of his shoulders and twisted him half way. He stared at the usually empty face flush red, delighted at the sight that only he knew he could only see. "How does it feel?"

"G-good, Aizen-sama." He lied. And, it wasn't because he actually cared about what his lord would feel, but because it would end sooner if Aizen was delighted. Never mind the pleasure that he sometimes felt, the pain alone was pushing him over the edge. Maybe he was a masochist? Oh, well, like anyone cared. He knew his body wasn't made for this, therefore the pain, but it didn't seem to matter to Aizen. It was obvious that he knew this, and he didn't care. Of course, despite this, Ulquiorra was sure his lord wouldn't go so far as to break him. He knew Aizen would let everyone die except for him. He was just that precious to his lord. And yet, he asked himself why he had to be the one going through this if Aizen loved him so much.

Tears formed in his eyes, gripping the blanket until his nails went through them to tear the skin on the palms of his hands. He secretly cried, giving up, and let every sound spill through his now chapped lips. This had been going on longer than it usually was, confusing Ulquiorra whether he had failed the mission he was given without knowing or otherwise. Love wasn't supposed to feel this way. Love wasn't supposed to hurt, at least not this much, but that was the only thing he knew. Perhaps he was wrong? Aizen of course would know better, maybe this was what love really was?

_It's not. It's not!_

Grimmjow appeared behind his closed eyes, the memories they shared replaying in his mind. From what he had learned, this was not love. From what Grimmjow had said, love was something much better than all this pain that crushed his life and pride. This wasn't love. But, Aizen said it was. Who was telling the truth?

Feeling his lord washing his insides all over again, Ulquiorra was freed at last. Aizen pulled out of him, but things were definitely far from over. His jet black hair was pulled down, forcing him to his lord's shaft. The tears in the corner of his eyes were completely ignored; he flicked his tongue and closed his lips around it, telling himself that it was almost over. Feeling the flesh in his mouth harden again, he decided to save the thoughts for later. Nothing could possibly save him at the moment than having the task finished as soon as possible.

_Grimmjow._

Grimmjow and he made a promise. Grimmjow said he would be there if Ulquiorra would need any help, but where was he now? Ulquiorra couldn't imagine. It was just too painful to think of him right now, remembering the things he had been taught. He was always told to be bolder in talking to Aizen, to learn how to say no when he really didn't want it, and to have more love for himself. On the other hand, Aizen said love was giving oneself to complete submission.

Choking, Ulquiorra pulled back and let his lord's essence drip down his chin until Aizen wiped it away. He looked up to meet those soft chocolate eyes, they were warm and inviting, and yet he wanted to run to a place where he couldn't be seen by them—a place that didn't exist. Everywhere he went, those eyes could see him which was why he couldn't cry, and why he couldn't be himself. He couldn't hate the things he hated, and he couldn't love the things that he loved. He was always watched and, because of that, had to act like the life that he had wasn't his own, like what Aizen ordered him to say and do all the time were real.

"Who owns your body and soul, Ulquiorra?" that frightening voice whispered, coming close to those defiled, pale lips. Ulquiorra's green eyes closed, knowing perfectly well what was about to come next: they kissed passionately, as if it the _passion_ was real.

"Aizen-sama," he breathed, gripping the sheets under his fists and arching his body up. "Aizen-sama owns my body and soul."

And this could go over and over throughout the night, Aizen making him say who he really belonged to as if he could ever forget about it. It was impossible, because every word was branded into his skin and every time he would see himself in the mirror, even though his wounds had disappeared over night, he would be haunted by the fact that his body wasn't only for himself but for his lord's to play with as well.

"I love you," Aizen whispered to his lips before claiming them again. "I love you so much."

Grimmjow never told him he loved him until moments ago, but somehow it didn't matter. What he always heard him say was that he was sorry. And, he gave him those _lessons_that they had every time the sun vanished from the peak of the dome. Grimmjow had always apologized for something he didn't do—he always tried to fix what he didn't break. But, Ulquiorra had been always thankful for it. In a way, Ulquiorra thought he actually cared.

_He said he loved me._

He never cared about what was between the two of them, and what kept him going every single night back to that room flooded by Grimmjow's distinct smell. It was funny, he didn't know that they had anything else than the signature reiatsus to detect one another. And, before he knew it, he had memorized the Sexta's scent. It was strange, but it always calmed his nerves like it always told him that everything was finally going to be right. In Grimmjow's presence, all his pain seemed to vanish in an instant, the pain that his body couldn't recover from.

_Can I love him?_

Ulquiorra asked himself, almost forgetting that he was in his lord's presence. He looked up, meeting brown eyes instead of blue, and started to contemplate about what had happened between him and Grimmjow.

_Do I love him?_

There was a distinct pain only Aizen could give, something he had always hated his lord for, but he couldn't tell anyone that. Just accepting everything from his lord was a way to show his loyalty, it was a way to prove just who he really served, but Grimmjow saw through it all. Grimmjow knew he had been hurting, and Grimmjow had been trying to build a wall for him to be safe. Ulquiorra thought that whatever Grimmjow was doing was the type of love he wanted to feel.

"I love you." came his lord's whisper again.

If what Grimmjow made him feel was not love, what was he supposed to do? Was he ready to abandon him, or had he really thought that far? No, he hadn't. Ulquiorra never thought of what he would do after he left Grimmjow gaping on the floor. He just left and didn't say anything more, because he didn't want to say anything he wasn't sure of. He didn't want to tell Grimmjow that he felt the same if he didn't even know how love was supposed to be.

"What is love?"

Aizen stopped for a while, seemingly shocked, and then smiled. "This is love." He breathed, trailing butterfly kisses from the Cuatra's pale chest up to the cheek, and then claimed his lips in another heated kiss. Closing his eyes and parting for a while, he darted out his lips to lick the other's pale damp lips.

Ulquiorra did anything but react, simply staring at his lord or at the ceiling whenever it was possible. The last look he had seen on Grimmjow's face was never something he had ever thought was even possible. Grimmjow had always been cocky, stubborn, brash, and all the other things he hated about him, and yet he wore an expression as if he cared or that he felt the same, the Sexta Espada would die of happiness or something of the like.

"Do you doubt me, Ulquiorra?"

If that was true and if this was love, then Ulquiorra didn't love Grimmjow but his lord. This type of love was something he didn't want to share with someone who gave him time away from this torture. Even if Grimmjow loved him, even if Grimmjow thought of hurting him this way too, Ulquiorra would never ever want it. He couldn't love Grimmjow.

"No, Aizen-sama."

"Had Grimmjow taught you to doubt me?" He continued to whisper, diving down and licking the outer shell of the ear. "Doubts aren't something I approve of, Ulquiorra. You should know that more than anyone else."

"I do." he replied, "Forgive me."

Tightening his grip on the Arrancar's chin, he forced it back to face him directly. "Then prove it, Espada. Prove to me that you do not doubt me."

So this was love. How pathetic, but so be it. Ulquiorra would take all of the pain Aizen would give, but he wouldn't let Grimmjow have any of this. He didn't care if it was being selfish, if it was hatred or the love that humans would die for. He might not have known much about emotions, but he would not _love_ Grimmjow this way. He wouldn't _love_ him. No, he would never. Grimmjow deserved a lot of different things, and until Ulquiorra figured out whatever that was, he'd take all the _love_ Aizen had to give him and Grimmjow too.

"Whatever you desire, Aizen-sama."

"Then I give you this task, and carry it on well." He paused, moving his hand up to caress the cheek of his favorite Espada once again. "Clear your mind of your doubts of me, and destroy the source of it."

"Source?"

"Grimmjow, Ulquiorra. It's Grimmjow." He replied with a smile, seeing that the Cuatra Espada's emotionless façade faltered the first time the name slipped past his lips. His voice went louder as his reiatsu flared and enveloped the Arrancar's bare body, making it limp. "Do not think I do not know why you fail to heed my call at times."

Ulquiorra choked, feeling every breath in his lungs squeezed out until they had almost gone dry, but still he tried to fight, releasing his own reiatsu to at least give him some air to breath, but it wasn't enough. He didn't know why but he was supposed to be stronger than Grimmjow. He was supposed to have more strength against Aizen in times like these, a bigger chance to flee, but it seemed that he was terribly mistaken. He was getting suffocated. He was going to die.

"I suppose you had more doubts of me than I have previously thought." He continued, pressing a gentle kiss on the Quatra Espada's freezing forehead. "You disappoint me."

He tried closing his eyes, but even that alone proved to be a very hard task. Ulquiorra's teeth kept on grinding against one another, hurting him more than he should be feeling with Aizen's _love_ alone. How long must he go through this? He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't breath, he couldn't move. It was like he didn't own his body, maybe... maybe it was really true after all. Aizen did own his body and soul.

"You have to forgive me, though, Ulquiorra." He said, his smile widening as his fingertips traced the green path from the eyes down to the chin. "As much as I'd want to see you happy, I can not just ignore the things that impose a failure to my plan. I need you with me to fulfill it, you alone and without any distraction."

The smile on those kind lips suddenly disappeared, his eyes turning to the window with a strong, wild fire from hell. Those brown eyes gained a frightful edge, making even Ulquiorra squirm by being under its gaze. He had never seen his lord this way before. He had seen him lose his cool a couple of times with Grimmjow, but not like this. Not this threatening, and certainly not so frightening that he could feel his body shiver against his will.

_Grimmjow. Grimmjow._ He called in his mind, hoping that somehow the person he was asking for could hear sounds that were not even made. They made a promise, so maybe he would come. Maybe he could be saved again for the second time, but it didn't happen. No one could read his mind.

"If I find a need to have the ten Espada short of one, I will not hesitate to do as such as long as you are one of the nine remaining. I couldn't care less about those below you, Ulquiorra. They are just pawns to be played with for my amusement."

Ulquiorra knew now that he really had done something wrong. He was wrong when he didn't come back right away when Aizen had lent him to Grimmjow for the very first time. He was wrong to spend his nights with Grimmjow instead of his lord. Everything he ever did with Grimmjow was wrong. The lessons, the experiences, the feelings, the love... all of them were wrong. He should've been smarter, since Grimmjow always regarded him as the _all-knowing_.

"If you feel that strongly for him, perhaps you'd rather see him die in your arms than in mine?" Aizen's smile became a little more frightening, his fingers trailing down to curl around Ulquiorra's neck. He touched the pale skin gently, rubbing up and down and sometimes drawing circles at the sweat-covered chest. "You have until the Hogyoku is full awakened, but the sooner it is done, the better."

"A-ah... aiiihh..." Ulquiorra struggled to speak, his voice squeaking and breaking from the spirit that still choked him, but the thought of Grimmjow dying because of him lit a fire inside him. It was absurd, someone dying because of him. If he hated something he couldn't deny that he did, it was failing and feeling helpless. "Aihhzeenn... sa... ah... ma... ahh..."

The thick reiatsu was suddenly lifted, making the Cuatra Espada cough and gasp for air. Ulquiorra turned to the side, clutching his chest and his now rough throat from coughing too hard. Tears were formed in the corner of his eyes, blurring everything his eyes could reach. He honestly thought he was going to die, but maybe he was right about Aizen treating him as his most prized possession.

"What is it that you wish to say, Ulquiorra?" he said gently, rubbing the cold back of the squirming Espada. "I am listening."

The dark-haired Arrancar turned back, lying flat against the ivory blanket. Raising his hands to hold his lord's face, an action only he was allowed to do. He breathed in, checking that he had enough oxygen back on his lungs, and spoke with a husky voice.

**X – X – X – X – X**

Ulquiorra walked out of the enormous double doors, waiting until they had fully closed before stopping. He turned his head a little, taking a look at what was behind him, before wrapping his arms around himself. He was in that frightening chamber until a few seconds ago, mocking him once more about all the things he couldn't have. He shivered, still feeling the fear creeping up his skin like the hands of that powerful monster that had defiled him more than twice. He could still feel those hands roaming all over his body, not leaving an inch unexplored. And, those lips that tasted every part of him. He was disgusted beyond belief, but he couldn't show it. He was the Cuatra Espada, he wasn't supposed to be displaying such weakness.

It was pathetic.

He carried his feet, not stopping until he felt those hands wouldn't be able to reach him anymore, but soon he realized that there was no such place. Everywhere he went, he could feel those brown eyes drilling holes into his form as if absorbing every bit of his existence for every second. It was frightening, an emotion he couldn't feel even in the middle of a battle. It would have been better if he could be away from everything, from the agonizing memories, and to be able to fall down to his knees or bury himself somewhere, but such things were all nothing but a dream. Aizen was almost like himself, like Aizen had been a part of him ever since the first night.

It was painful.

Letting his hands down to fall to his sides, he continued to drift farther and farther from the appalling and taunting chambers. He didn't care anymore, brushing off the memory of Aizen being all over his naked form, and pulled his impermeable façade back to his features. Again, he was lying to himself, acting like it didn't bother him. It was as if he had gotten used to it from the countless times he had felt so used, but in truth he was hurting just the same from the first night. Although his body felt a little weaker due to his lord's surprising harshness, it was all just the same. He was even getting better at this too, but still not understanding just where his loyalty for Aizen kept on coming from.

Suddenly, a flash of blue was caught in the corner of his eyes, forcing Ulquiorra into a halt. He had not felt anything, but was that Grimmjow running towards Aizen's chambers? He was simply frozen there for a minute or two, wondering if someone had really past through without him noticing the presence beforehand. Had he been that absorbed to his thoughts? No, Grimmjow was a proud being that he wouldn't even trouble concealing his reiatsu. He always blasted it towards every corner of Las Noches, filling every tips and corners. It couldn't be him, and why would even Grimmjow go there? For all he knew, the reason Grimmjow would only come to Aizen without being dragged was if he had gotten fed up of everything and decided to kill the shinigami for good... which was highly unlikely.

Continuing his trip, Ulquiorra found himself in a place he promised he wouldn't be seen in again. He felt something suddenly tugging harshly at him, telling him to leave the place at that very second, and so he did. Using his fastest Sonido, he disappeared in a blink of an eye before the door of the Sexta Espada.

All he wanted was a place to stay, so why did he end up there? He didn't know, maybe there was something wrong with him. First he hallucinated about Grimmjow, and then he thought of him inviting him back to his chambers? Those blue eyes wouldn't even look at him again and, considering how he broke the other's dreams of love, Ulquiorra really couldn't blame him. He knew, he saw in those eyes, that it hurt a lot.

_It must've been real._

Real or not, it shouldn't have mattered to him. Shaking his head, he continued to trek around the dome until he had reached his own domain. As he went inside, finding every single thing inside his room reminding him of the teal-haired cocky Grimmjow, he told himself that there was nothing to regret about anything that happened. There was no need to forget nor to lie to himself about it being okay, because it really was alright. Everything about Grimmjow was alright.

Ulquiorra closed the door behind him, eyes fixed on a withered flower cradled by an ivory vase which was almost invisible as it blended with the walls and everything else in his room. He walked to it, taking the small flower in between his two fingers, and brought it close to his face.

_It's dead._

Ulquiorra continued to stare at it, **remembering** just how he got it. It was on one of those trips to the real world when a strange occasion was taking place. He could still remember it clearly, as if he was replaying it by crushing one of his eyes. Everywhere he turned to that night was in the same color and even most of the people were in them too. It was just like where he was now, in Las Noches, monochrome painting all over the place, only that the color burned. Grimmjow said it was the color red.

"Damn, it's the fucking season." Grimmjow groaned, slouching as he slid his hands to his pockets, and glowered at the flock beneath their feet. Feeling the heavy stare that came from his green-eyed superior, he turned to him and said, "Valentines. It's the day every year that made me realize why I hate pansy shits."

"Another holiday." he stated simply. "What are the decorations for?"

"S'pose to be hearts, I bet. The day's for that kind of shit anyway."

"It mutated?"

"It what?"

"Human hearts," Ulquiorra pointed at one, red, heart-shaped decoration that was hung close, "don't look like that."

"I can't believe your level of stupidity. Seriously." Grimmjow turned around, looking for something else to talk about. He hated this day, and it was because there was nothing else to see than couple doing _it_. He enjoyed it for a while, disgusted at some point and annoyed at most, but for seeing it everywhere and for every year, it had gotten really boring.

Ulquiorra fell quiet for some time, absorbed on what the humans were doing during said holiday. There were more people on the streets than usual, the shops looked crowded than the last time they came. The last holiday that they caught with their lessons was the so-called _Christmas_, but Ulquiorra was sure there weren't much people then. Maybe this holiday was more special?

Turning to a couple under a beautifully lit tree, he saw a woman eating. "Grimmjow," he called out.

"What?" The Sexta Espada walked to his superior and stood beside him, looking at the couple that he supposed was the one that caught Ulquiorra's amusing curiosity. As he looked for whatever that might had been troubling the green-eyed, he noticed small heart-shaped chocolates from the box.

"I didn't know they were edible."

"Your imagination scares me." Grimmjow muttered, "They aren't real hearts, you idiot. If they were, I'm fucking sure that humans would be the one eating us instead of the other way around."

"I don't understand."

As the night went deeper, all they talked about were humans ripping each other's hearts which Grimmjow tried his hardest to convince the other that Valentine's Day wasn't celebrated like that. Soon, he realized it was useless and just started playing around with the innocent superior. They contemplated as to where humans dump the heartless corpses from which they get the decorations and chocolates from. Of course, being Grimmjow on one side of the argument didn't help Ulquiorra in understanding the issue in any way, forcing the Cuatra Espada to a terrible conclusion.

By the end of the confusing discussion about humans and their weird ways in life, they decided to travel on foot in order to see things closer. Ulquiorra still seemed a little too interested than usual to the holiday even though he said to let the case rest.

Walking through trails of bushes, Ulquiorra's ankle got tangled into something which seemed like vines with thorns. He stopped on his tracks and looked down on his small injury, watching beads of blood flow out of them. It was strange. A mere spiritless thing had scratched an Arrancar's skin, an Espada no less.

"What the hell is with you?" Grimmjow knelt down, tearing the vines that had ensnared Ulquiorra's feet without getting any injuries. He looked up and met a pair of green eyes, clear of anything even of surprise. "Your hierro is down."

Ulquiorra just stared back, not knowing the answer himself but he never liked not being able to answer. It made him appear weak, like he wasn't prepared for it, thus showing a trace of weakness.

"I'm tired." It wasn't a good answer, but at least he gave one.

Grimmjow rolled his beautiful blue eyes, catching a blossoming bud at the corner of his eyes. It seemed to be a rose or at least that's what the signs he kept on seeing everywhere said. Oh well, like Ulquiorra knew any better regarding such things. He reached for it and broke the stem, putting it near to his face. One by one, he pulled off the thorns, and then handed it to the impassive Espada as he stood up.

"If you're tired, you shouldn't have come." Ulquiorra received the white rosebud with a hand without a word, ignoring Grimmjow as he went back down to check the man's small wound. Looking closely at it, he realized that it had healed right away. Ulquiorra wasn't a Cuatra Espada for nothing, of course. "I'm fucking worried about nothing."

"What am I going to do with this?"

"With what?" Grimmjow stood up, putting his hands back to his pockets, and looked at the flower that Ulquiorra held gently. He smirked at the sight: the emotionless Cuatra Espada with a rose. Such a thing that nobody would've thought was possible, or maybe not? He always used to imagine what it would be like, but he always thought that it could only happen on the stoic Espada's wake. Fate and irony just loved helping him sometimes.

"Do whatever you like with it." The Sexta Espada said, walking away, "You can get rid of it for all I care."

Observing the innocent bud, Ulquiorra was clear of any possible plan about it. Should he get rid of it just what Grimmjow told him he could do, or was there another option? He could keep it, couldn't he? Not finding any better choice than that, the Cuatra Espada slid it to his pocket carefully and followed the drifting Sexta.

Soon, during the following nights, Grimmjow learned that he didn't get rid of it and then Ulquiorra started receiving something for each night that they spent together. Sometimes they were consumables such as food and water. Most of the time Ulquiorra couldn't destroy them no matter how much he wanted to, without the use of reiatsu of course. He and Grimmjow began to try a lot of things ever since and almost tried to live as normal human beings, hoping to bring memories about their life as a human, but such was something they wasn't able to reach. More than hundreds of years had passed since they died as a human.

"Do you want to feel what's it like to live again?" Grimmjow asked him one time, a maniacal grin on his face.

Looking at the gift he favored the most, Ulquiorra **pulled himself from the memories** of what he promised that wouldn't happen again, finding himself back into his room. But no matter how peculiar and important the things Grimmjow had given him were, they couldn't be there anymore in his room. Every trace of it had to go, like it never happened and Grimmjow never existed in his life.

Moving his hand up to cradle the withered flower from the stem, he curled his fingers slowly and shattered the poor thing into thousands of pieces. He watched the dead fragments fly down to his feet, telling himself that it had never meant a thing. Ulquiorra turned around and looked at every single thing that never used to exist before Aizen had given him to someone else for a night. He walked up to them and destroyed them with a flick of his finger, burning everything to ashes and not leaving any trace that the things that had been there.

_There is no one I care for._

He looked around, observing how much of his quarters had been shattered.

_There is no one else that held me except for my lord._

Ulquiorra walked to his closet, finding a different uniform that was a lot larger than his own. It was Grimmjow's, the uniform he had lent Ulquiorra when his was ripped into shreds. He remembered it very well, and how terrified those blue eyes were when the Cuatra Espada had broken down.

_There is no one else that I serve._

He suddenly heard heavy footsteps nearing him chambers, but it did not tear his eyes from the uniform that was hung in the farthest corner of his closet. He didn't need to trouble himself with who it was, because there was only one who would be happily announcing his arrival. No one else except for Ichimaru Gin ever dared to come near him ever since the _trials_ ever started. Maybe Aizen had ordered all the other Arrancars to never bother him and give him time to rest.

_I am the __Cuatra__ Espada._

The door swung open.

_The person that I love... is not here anymore._

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**THE END.**

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...Just kidding. ;P Anyhow, a lot of my plans had changed because of the that blasted fifth chapter that wasn't originally in the story. That was some kind of a filler just so I could update which is why nothing happened much, and so I am trying to keep everything together and connected. There was supposed to be only eight chapters, but now I'm not so sure anymore. At least I'm back on track with this sixth chapter. I only have a few more days before my college life officially starts, so I'm sorry to say that the next chapter is going to take me quite a long time to finish. **Shit**. D| But this, I assure you, I will not leave everyone hanging. ;3

Love me with reviews, please? ;D


	7. Seventh Secret

**TITLE:** Our Greatest Secret  
**AUTHOR:** Fen Jien Ren  
**BETA READER:** ChiharuSato22

**ANIME:** Bleach  
**DISCLAIMERS:** Tite Kubo owns Bleach and all its characters.

**SUMMARY:** Grimmjaw offers to teach Ulquiorra the things that the Cuatra regarded as unnecessary.  
**WARNINGS:** Yaoi, lemon, and unintentional OOC-ness.  
**PAIRING/S and CHARACTERS:** GrimmUlqui, Ichimaru Gin, Sousuke Aizen

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**CHAPTER SEVEN**

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Grimmjow stood in the darkness, his existence kept well hidden except for the glowing eyes, and stepped out of his hiding only when Ulquiorra had once again continued walking. He was almost caught. Perhaps, it was the vibrant color of his hair that gave him away. He had been improving his Sonido at a higher pace ever since, and he was confident about it more than ever. Even those above him shouldn't be able to detect him so easily, but he couldn't be too sure with Aizen, though. He knew that man was a monster, unlike anything any of them could ever be.

_I haven't done anything at all._

He closed his eyes, clenching his fists and jaw. He had finally managed to bring himself up from where he fell, right after everything, with hopes that somehow he had still managed to save him. But in the end, nothing changed. He wasn't able to change anything, and Ulquiorra was still in pain. And if anything, all he had done was make things worse.

Grimmjow looked up, thinking back to just how he had gotten himself into such a situation again. He smiled bitterly as the painful memories washed his mind, **reliving every moment** as the sounds and sights came to him like it was happening once more. He didn't know before that even the coldest man could be so warm in his arms. For once, Grimmjow managed to see just how young the stoic Espada was. Forgetting strengths and ranks, Ulquiorra was no older than a sixteen year-old that had responsibilities thrust upon him.

The Cuatra Espada had fallen asleep in his arms, unmoving and relaxed. Grimmjow had changed their positions a bit so their masks wouldn't clash. Laying Ulquiorra's head on his shoulder with his back pressing up against his chest, Grimmjow noticed that his superior had been quite worn out these days and thought that maybe Aizen had been giving him more missions than usual—perhaps one after another without rest. What surprised him, though, was the fact that Ulquiorra still kept on coming to him despite how tired he looked. There were times that Grimmjow would catch him with his eyes closed, probably trying to give his tired eyes as much rest as they could get without him. He was trying to be there for him and keep his side of their agreement. It was cute, Grimmjow admitted only to himself. Still, he couldn't name the sensation that kept on reining his insides whenever they were together. It felt weird, distinct... something that only existed when Ulquiorra was near.

_What was it?_

Grimmjow also realized that whatever that thing was, it was also making him different. That 'whatever' was teaching him to feel for someone else, specifically, for the one sleeping on his shoulder, and it was also making him... somehow... soft. Funny, nobody would ever have thought that Grimmjow Jeagerjaques could be soft.

Ulquiorra stirred, head inclining up a little, his lips closing to another pair. Blue eyes tried to take in the sight without feeling anything, but soon Grimmjow felt something strange in his chest that was akin to embarrassment and nervousness. Grimmjow felt the warm breath on his chin and lips, biting his lips to resist the urge to follow his instincts. He wanted to kiss him, that was what his instincts were telling him to do, but he knew better than to take advantage of someone. He had pride, and he would never attack someone who was not prepared... But kissing wasn't a form of attack, was it?

_Shit!_ _Not again!_

Grimmjow turned away, but the man on his chest continued to stir as if urging him to do whatever he wanted to do. He gritted his teeth firmly to keep his hands to himself, and tried his hardest to take his mind away from this. But it turned out that fate didn't have any intention of helping him on the matter because Ulquiorra started whispering like a vulnerable human child.

Ulquiorra whispered... his name.

"Grimm...jow." came the faint yet pleasant sound of it, making said man smile just a little bit. Rolling his eyes, he noticed something under his superior's white sleeve. Grimmjow narrowed his eyes, as if making his sight sharper, and realized it was a bruise as big as his hand with a peculiar shape. The bruise was made to last.

The Sexta Espada gently took the wounded arm closer to his face and tried to find the distinct trace of any reiatsu of the person responsible, and when it came to him, he wasn't surprised in any way. Nobody else could do it anyway, especially to a high-ranking Espada like Ulquiorra.

Wrapping his fingers around the bruise, he sent in his own reiatsu to the cold flesh. Ulquiorra had always been the fastest healer among all of them, and the only possible reason why he wasn't able to rejuvenate was that he didn't have the time to replenish the reiatsu he needed to use for it or maybe he didn't have enough reiatsu left. Remembering the time when Ulquiorra was wounded by the thorns of a mere human's flower, the latter seemed plausible.

Grimmjow watched the bruise fade away slowly with every thread of reiatsu he released into the abused skin. The possibility that there were more of them came to his mind, but he also thought of the possibility that he might wake the Cuatra Espada up or, the worst case scenario, imbalance his reiatsu that may lead to a rampage and eventual death. He didn't want either of those to happen, so he left it at that, and embraced the smaller Arrancar instead.

Reasons, reasons... they didn't really matter, he supposed. He always did things just because he liked to do them or because he felt like doing them. He never cared if everyone else hated what he did; he never cared even when someone or everyone died. So, why did he care now? Why did he bother himself with thinking of all the answers to the questions that came from somewhere he didn't know? Somehow, Ulquiorra was no longer afraid of him. Somehow, Grimmjow felt that it was the best thing that could happen to him.

"Grimmjow," the grim voice called softly almost like a fragile whisper, and laid his hand over the tanned one that held his arm so gently. Opening his eyes, he figured just how small he was and yet so fitting to Grimmjow's muscular body.

"You shouldn't come if you're tired." He said, loosening his grip and turning away to look at the flooding world. "I wouldn't mind."

"I wouldn't want to be punched in the face for taking a night off."

"I already apologized about that, and I already said I didn't mean it."

"That doesn't change what you did."

"Whatever." Grimmjow groaned, furrowing his brows in an attempt to appear annoyed until the subject was changed. He felt very embarrassed at that time, a little shocked too, as he had landed his fist on Ulquiorra's face hard enough to leave a mark. Although that was the first time that he caught him defenseless and unprepared, he never realized, until now, just how that happened. It was more than a month ago, which meant Ulquiorra was suffering a lot longer than he had known.

"Grimmjow," he paused. "Am I allowed to move?"

"Yes, you shithead." He growled, pushing the other man forcefully away from his chest and to the wet pavement. "You didn't need to ask."

"Forgive me."

"Shut it, ya li'l suck up." Grimmjow stood up, brushing his hakama. "You've slept long enough. We're going."

Grimmjow waited for a while, looking outside with his hands on his pockets until his companion was ready to leave, but then uncountable minutes came and went by and still hadn't heard anything from the other. He turned back, his eyes widening in surprise, and saw Ulquiorra, with a face as soft as a child's, as he touched where the large bruise used to be.

He was beautiful, although that wasn't the first time that he had thought that. Grimmjow lowered his head, thoughts resurfacing back to reality, and strode quietly back to his room. He slid his hands to his pockets and watched his feet take steps past each other, seemingly the only thing that he took interest in at the moment. There were so many things he was confused about—so many that he really couldn't count them all. But, he still hoped to find an answer to each and every one of them. He always hated complicated things and he hated them more when he couldn't understand them.

He sighed, arriving and shutting the door behind his back with a loud thud. His quarters appeared to be more spacious and colder than yesterday, or so he felt when Ulquiorra was not around. They had done a lot of things he never did with anyone before, and now that he thought about it, he was forming a _bond_ with him during those times without even knowing it. He learned to like it, somehow, without exactly understanding how things went and what those emotions that he felt at times were. Now, he knew that it was love, and yet it didn't make him feel any less than he felt earlier. Even though things had made a turn for the worst, he supposed it really was the only path they would end up taking. Hollows weren't supposed to feel anything, so what he couldn't expect a happy ending. It was pointless to hope. It was just going to be an unreachable dream.

_An unreachable dream._ Grimmjow repeated to himself, **remembering **that one time he spent with Ulquiorra by simply watching humans going on with their lives from a towering tree. It was one of those nights when they were just starting, a time when he was completely oblivious to what he was feeling.

"Protect." Ulquiorra started, "What does it feel like to be protected?"

"Fuck if know."

There was silence for a while. Grimmjow really never cared then despite that fact that everything was a part of his plan. The only thing that really mattered to him was the time he didn't have to spend in Las Noches, and the things he could do in making fun of the one he hated the most. There were times when he would attack, sudden moments where he thought he could handle them, but, in the end, he would stop, broken by the sight of those green orbs shaken by fear.

"Then I'll protect you, and after that... tell me what it feels like."

"I don't need to be protected." He said, crossing his arms and scowling at the Cuatra Espada. He leaned back at the tree bark and growled, "I'm not a fucking weakling."

"Everyone has their moment of weakness."

"I'm not like everyone."

Ulquiorra turned to him, staring like he always did, and said, "Nobody is like everyone."

"I'm already getting used to your annoying whines, but could you talk and make fucking sense at the same time?"

There was silence again, it was wrapping itself loosely around them both. Ulquiorra hid his green eyes, relaxing a little, and pulled his hand out of his pocket and placed it on his chest. "Everyone has something they fear to lose, and when it is taken away we fall into a state when we find ourselves unable to do anything. That state is called 'weakness'."

"Well, shit. I don't value anything."

"The more reason you need to be protected." He met Grimmjow's eyes. "You've already lost it. Not even knowing what you lost makes you a lot weaker... trash."

"Fuck you."

Grimmjow's eyes snapped open, realizing that he had fallen asleep **with a painful dream** and was only awaken by the sound of knocking on his door. He lifted his head, peering at his white door, and let it fall back down to the pillows again. The Sexta Espada sighed, closing his eyes. Who could it be now? Surely it couldn't be Ulquiorra...

**X ****–**** X ****–**** X ****–**** X ****–**** X**

He straightened his clothes, green eyes staring back at the mirror to observe his self. He was ready—clear of worries, fears, thoughts, and most importantly, love. The one he saw in the mirror was the servant he used to be and should have always been. For a short period of time, he was misguided, lost on the path of life, he was what Aizen made him to be—made him for. Ulquiorra was ready, and nothing was going to break this newly formed resolve of his.

Hearing the inevitable call, Ulquiorra strode gracefully to answer his door and welcomed his lord's second in command with a low bow. The smile no longer scared him, nor did it put a crack in his impassive mask. He stared back at those frightening slits that the visitor had for eyes. He was not going to turn back; he was prepared. He was not going to feel anything anymore this time; he would embrace this wholeheartedly. He was nothing but a toy for his lord to play with. He was the Cuatra Espada, Ulquiorra Schiffer.

The silver-haired shinigami's smile grew wider upon understanding this just by seeing how those green eyes look at him, he said, "You're gettin' better at this, yeah?"

Those green eyes continued to stare, unwavering with a firm resolve—unshaken.

"...But ya see, Cuarta-chan... he may be sweet, loving, 'n charming, but," he shook his head, "Aizen-taichou ain't nice."

"Ichimaru-sama,"

"I don't think you're gettin' it, Cuatra-chan." Ichimaru abruptly said, stepping closer and laying his hand on the edge of the door over Ulquiorra's pale one. "You said it ain't my business, but if I were ya... I'd be glad I made it mine. **Jus****'**** think ****'****bout it**..."

Ulquiorra lay fully exposed underneath his lord, kissing the flesh that others were so forbidden to touch so many times. With his eyes closed, he could tell his eyes blissful lies of who he was kissing... of who he was loving at the moment. He was told to destroy the one thing he had, or at least something he had taken part in. He knew Grimmjow wasn't his, Aizen being the creator of them all, but he was contented to know that, somehow, they had gotten together, and something good came from that.

"What is it that you wish to say, Ulquiorra? I am listening." Along those words, Ulquiorra could sense the trace of pleasure created by his actions. He was never the aggressive type, he never did anything he wasn't told to do, but this time, he was begging. He found himself praying for something that wasn't exactly for him, but would do him good, in a way.

"That trash... Grimmjow... I assure you, Aizen-sama... he isn't the root of this." He said, lying back down to the mattress.

"Then, what is the cause of this? Tell me." He whispered, licking the soft outer shell of his favorite Arrancar's ear. Ulquiorra squirmed underneath his touch. He could feel, and he would die with their every kiss. He was sure. Aizen was lord for a reason—being chosen by a deceiving zanpakuto was something far more. He could see through lies, break every barrier, persuade the firmest people, and kill immortal people. He could do everything because he was a god.

"It is myself, Aizen-sama. I am afraid that it lies within me, but," he paused, closing his eyes as he felt Aizen's tongue sweep over his sensitive flesh. "I shall get rid of it... right away."

"Let me help you." The chestnut-haired shinigami whispered, "We shall right this mistake within you."

"There is no need to trouble yourself."

"Nonsense." Aizen gripped his chin and guided him to his lips, devouring him like a wild beast. Ulquiorra closed his eyes, trying his best to drown himself with anything but regret and pain. It was no time to think of himself, because, right now, not only his life or his body were at stake. "I shall do as I please. Am I not allowed to do that now, Ulquiorra?"

"O-of course not," his breath hitched, feeling a wet sensation on his abdomen, "Aizen-sama. Please, do as you wish."

"Then I will." Aizen hotly whispered in his ear, making Ulquiorra feel suddenly so disgusted with himself. He closed his eyes, not wanting to witness such act anymore as he intertwined his hand, that used to only hold Grimmjow's, with the man he gave his very existence to. It wasn't right to think of Grimmjow now, because Grimmjow... never deserved someone a hundred times better than him to begin with. It didn't matter what he felt, didn't matter what love really was, and it didn't matter anymore what happened to him. It was over, and before everything started, he should've known better than not to realize that it was bound to happen sooner or later.

Sooner or later... he wished it could have been later, but who was he to have a wish granted? He had no heart, no mind of his own... he was an empty shell brought to life by a traitorous shinigami, Sousuke Aizen. As Ulquiorra **cleared his head of the memories**, he took his hand beneath the silver-haired lieutenant and said, "Forgive me, but I deem this conversation is pointless. If there is nothing else..."

"I apologize for troublin' ya for it then." the fox-faced shinigami turned to leave, ignoring the small bow Ulquiorra bade him in courtesy and hiding his hands back to his long sleeves. His smile did not falter, and if anything, it even grew wider when he looked back at the pale Espada if it was even possible. "Oh, I almost forgot... 'bout Sexta-chan..."

Ulquiorra's chest suddenly tightened.

**X ****–**** X ****–**** X ****–**** X ****–**** X**

Grimmjow spit out blood, wiping the trace down his lips with the back of his fist as he tried to stand. How could he be so naïve? How could he think, even for a second, that Ulquiorra would come down and knock once more on his door? He was being unforgivably stupid. He knew karma was laughing his ass off right now because of him.

_Tch._

He hated this, hated being looked down, thrown around, and toyed with– he hated Aizen for being able to do all of this to him. He looked up at Ulquiorra, who was standing in between them with an unsheathed sword, and gritted his teeth. There was something wrong and Grimmjow was so sure about it. But no matter what would happen, he wasn't going to hurt him. He would never... and he knew he couldn't do it even if he wanted to.

"What's the matter?" Came the voice of his puppeteer, his enemy, and his self-proclaimed god. Aizen cradled the pale face of the Cuatra Espada slowly and turned it towards him, taking the differently colored lips with his in front of the struggling Sexta.

Grimmjow closed his eyes, turning away, unable to take in the sight of Ulquiorra being held by Aizen once more. With his ears, he could hear the both of them moaning, enjoying the show that they were presenting to him. He hated this. He knew that he had to do something, had to right that one thing he found wrong, and yet he couldn't even do so much as move is own feet.

Aizen smirked into their kiss as his eyes had not left Grimmjow's trembling form even just for a second. He licked his lips, pulling away, and said, "Raise your head, Grimmjow."

Despite his hesitation, Grimmjow did what he was told and met those frightening dark eyes of his lord. And, for this reason, his eyes started to cry. Through Ulquiorra's body was Aizen's arm, the pale complexion so misplacedly colored with deep red. Ulquiorra was his favorite, so how could he do this?

"You bastard!" He roared, taking all his strength from the core of his being, and charged at Aizen, his hand gripping on Pantera's hilt tightly enough to make his skin rip and bleed. The sight of Ulquiorra's empty eyes jumpstarted his strength. But, what good would it do? He was gone... gone, gone, _gone_... forever, but when Grimmjow was a step away from them, he felt a blade through his own body and saw the Cuatra Espada disappear in a split second.

It was an illusion.

He coughed, choking from blood that bubbled up his throat. He raised a hand to grip at Aizen's Kyoka Suigetsu that was through his chest, and tried to pull it out of him. His exhaustion doubled the pain, and the previous sight of a dead Ulquiorra weakened him even more. It was an illusion—finally he figured out what was wrong—but how could he still not fight despite knowing that everything was a lie?

Aizen had always been good with lies. And, Ulquiorra claimed he'd rather die than to do something as disgraceful as it. He was happy and thankful for all those memories he had with Ulquiorra, but what if everything had been nothing but Aizen's doing? Grimmjow could see those lips curling into a cruel smile, and just so suddenly, it came to him.

_No._

Everything had really been a lie.

_That can__'__t be it._

But how could he take it?

Blood dripped out of his gritted teeth, the blade getting deeper every second. Grimmjow glared at Aizen as hard as he could and pulled the zanpakuto out in one swift move, gripping tightly and throwing it away. He raised his sword shakily, but aimed at Aizen's sweet grin as he attacked. He was mocking him.

In a flash of black and white, Ulquiorra appeared again, in between him and Aizen. At this moment, Pantera was thrust through the Cuarta's chest, and with this sight, everything within Grimmjow began to break down. Ulquiorra stared at him with eyes filled with tears and pain as blood started to drip down his mismatched lips. For the thousandth time, Grimmjow didn't know what to do. His mind and body completely shut down. He stayed like that, frozen to the spot, until the image of the person he loved faded away and turned into a sharp sword.

"Shit!" He jumped back, taking him more than enough minutes before he realized that Aizen was simply fooling him. Again, Kyoka Suigetsu dispersed and turned into the Arrancar Grimmjow so painfully knew. Ulquiorra dashed towards him with an empty expression as he extended a finger to fire his peculiar green Cero.

Grimmjow decided to block, charging towards him to deflect the Cero in close range and be able to attack a split second after. There shouldn't be anymore illusions if he could break the zanpakuto, so that was what he was going to do. As he faced Ulquiorra with mere centimeters in between, the cero already destroyed, Grimmjow suddenly found his self hesitating to swing his sword down... scared that maybe this time, the one before him was real.

"Grimmjow." Ulquiorra whispered, softly touching his cheek. "Grimmjow."

Something started to break inside him, the Sexta Espada's grip on his zanpakuto loosening. Ulquiorra inched closer, the both of them suspended in midair all throughout, and stopped when they started to breathe each other's breath. They were so close to each other, and Grimmjow had forgotten everything else around them.

...He just missed him so _fucking _much.

* * *

**FEN:** I did say that the sixth chapter being the last was a joke, didn't I? Oh, well, I'm sure now you know that it is. So, the chapter was short but Chiharu said she loved it... and that makes me want to do so as well. Took me a long time to update because I rewrote a few parts just so it wouldn't appear that I made this just for the sake of updating like what I did with the fifth chapter (yes, I still feel so bad about it). Anyway, can anyone guess how I'm going to end this? - wink, wink - Maybe the one who would be able to guess EXACTLY what the ending would be, I'd give the person a gift. :D


	8. Cuatra's Secret

**TITLE:** Our Greatest Secret  
**AUTHOR:** Fen Jien Ren**  
BETA READER:** No beta for this one.

**ANIME: **Bleach  
**DISCLAIMERS:** Tite Kubo owns Bleach and all its characters.

**SUMMARY:** Grimmjow offers to teach Ulquiorra the things that the Cuatra regarded as unnecessary.  
**WARNINGS:** Yaoi, lemon, and major Ulquiorra OOC-ness.  
**PAIRING/S and CHARACTERS: **GrimmUlqui, Ichimaru Gin, Sousuke Aizen

**FEN:** They only had one rainy night together, the night before Grimm's confession, even when it's cut into many parts. The flashbacks about that night happened successively. So, far I think I've cut it into four parts. First one was on the fifth chapter, second and third was on the seventh chapter, and fourth one is here. And then the part after the first chapter break is the continuation of the last chapter.

This chapter's primary point is to confuse you, really. So, feel free to bombard my inbox with questions, and I would gladly answer them in the next AND last chapter. This is going to end very soon, but I hope you will stay with me for more GrimmUlqui fics that I have in mind. I swear, I will not let college take me away completly from this fandom! There is still **Beautiful Stranger** that I really wanted to finish, and two new multi-chaptered, that I so badly want to release, entitled** Sleepwalker** and **Co-Existing**. ;)

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

* * *

Ulquiorra stared through oblivion. He was lying on his side by the edge of his bed, legs draped over the rim almost like sitting. Ichimaru Gin had left more or less than an hour ago, but there was something with the lieutenant's visit that made him like this. There was something different, somehow he managed to tell, but he couldn't get his mind to wrap around it. He did what Aizen had asked of him, and surely the man knew he'd rather die than break a promise.

_There is... no one that I love._

He closed his emerald eyes, repeating the phrase in his head over and over.

_Grimmjow and I... we were just fooling around._

_"Do you dream?"_ whispered Grimmjow in his mind, **reminding him**** of what their nights used to be**.

Grimmjow was standing by the large opening of where they hid from the rain, while he was brushing himself from dirt which he said to be very contagious particles from trash. The Sexta cursed him for it, but admitted to himself that it was amusing to witness the man's various reactions and listen to his always so colorful speech. Because of the newly found mirth, there were times when Ulquiorra would catch his self smiling slightly... And there were also times when Grimmjow would notice it and compliment it even.

"I don't." He cast his green eyes down, watching the tiny droplets patter down the cemented floor.

There was silence for a while, and then... "I dream." Grimmjow spoke, slowly taking his superior's hand.

"Grimmjow,"

"Ignore it." The Sexta Espada said, referring to their intertwined hands without taking his blue eyes from the sky. He tightened his hold on the smaller one as if reassuring or asking for strength.

"Rule number two..." Ulquiorra started, slowly pulling his hand from the other's hold. "No weird acts."

Grimmjow chuckled, shaking his head. He didn't know his superior really did listen to those rules he kept on randomly making along the way they were together. "Let's go."

Both flew up in the air, Ulquiorra following behind and staring at the broad back of the Sexta Espada. From the very beginning, he knew that there was already something. Yes, he was aware, but also unsure and so he hoped to ask the blue-eyed Espada who seemed to know everything about it, but...

There was that third rule: _never ask._

Ulquiorra cringed, pulling his feet from the floor and rolling to the center of his bed. He opened his eyes, **pushing the thoughts away**, and stared up the ceiling.

_Grimmjow._

Slowly, his eyes started closing, his weary mind screaming for a rest.

**X - X - X – X**

Ulquiorra reached out, cupping and caressing the Sexta Espada's bare cheek. "Grimmjow."

Grimmjow froze, his grip on Pantera gradually loosening until it fell down to the ground completely forgotten. Slowly, Ulquiorra inched closer to him as they flew in the air, their lips only separated by a mere inch, breathing each other's breath. His blue eyes later closed, waiting patiently for their lips to touch. He forcefully pushed away everything else but the two of them, erasing Aizen's existence and all his stupid plans. Nothing mattered right now but them, and so he moved closer and then...

The Cuatra Espada gasped on his lips, making Grimmjow open his eyes. The moment that he reclaimed all his senses right, blood showered all over his body and it was all Kyoka Suigetsu's making. Grimmjow moved his eyes down, staring at the zanpakuto through Ulquiorra's thin body with only the tip reaching his own.

Blood. Why was there blood?

"Ul... quiorra." His voice came out like a broken sob, his mind unable to fully grasp the situation laid before him.

The image of Ulquiorra tightened its grip in the taller one's shoulders, face scrunched in pain. "Why?" it asked, blood flowing out of its lips like waterfalls as the tears fell from those perfect emerald eyes as well.

"I... I didn't." came Grimmjow's strangled voice, his mind barely handling it well.

"Why didn't you save me? I thought you loved me..."

Slowly, Ulquiorra vanished, but Grimmjow was stuck on his place, still staring through as though he was still holding the person that he loved. His lips were parted, still waiting for that kiss, but his eyes were glistening. They were glistening with tears he didn't want to weep. Ulquiorra's last words to him were painful, and he knew he did not deserve them.

He shook his head, "No... No, no, no, no! NO!"

Grimmjow fisted his hair, his nails digging through his scalp for more cuts and blood. He continued to shake his head violently, rejecting the accusation of Ulquiorra before he disappeared. He did not do anything wrong. It wasn't his fault! He didn't do anything wrong! He just held him, and he held him as gently as he could. He would never hurt him again... Ever.

But what happened? Why do these kind of things kept on rushing to him all at one? First Aizen paid him a visit, and then Ulquiorra just kept on appearing here and there. He couldn't understand anything that was happening today. They just keep on coming one after another without him being able to catch up. It was driving him insane, burying all the logic that he had at the darkest depths of his mind.

And then, it hit him. Only one conclusion coming into his mind when he caught those thin lips of the shinigami curl into a smile.

Lies.

"ULQUIORRAAA!!!" He twisted around to face the smirking shinigami, "You bastard!" Grimmjow gritted his teeth and rushed down to get his zanpakuto, dashing towards _his_ lord right after. He swing it down with as much energy as he could, but to his suprise, Aizen easily caught it with his fingers, the smile widening even more to mock.

"What have you done, Grimmjow? You killed Ulquiorra."

"Fuck you!" He growled, pulling his sword and then threw it back down. "YOU killed him! You fucking killed him!"

"...are you sure?" Aizen's eyes suddenly changed, turning into dangerous slits, and threw the Sexta Espada away effortlessly.

Grimmjow flew back to the far wall, but landed safely on it on his fours. He glared at the shinigami, and placed Pantera by its sheathe. He growled, "Grind..."

"Ulquiorra." The shinigami firmly called, and by the next second, the Cuatra Espada appeared before the lord of Las Noches with his own zanpakuto pulled out of its confines, saying:

"Bind... Murcielago."

_What?!_ Grimmjow's eyes grew wide, watching the black reiatsu fill his room. He darted away from his previous position and moved to a place where he could see the resurrected Cuatra Espada. But as soon as his hopes came, it disappeared. Ulquiorra was dead, Grimmjow was sure. This should be nothing but another illusion of Kyoka Suigetsu.

_Tch._ He continued his stance and repeated, "Grind, Pa—"

Shining green orbs on pure black sclera suddenly appeared before his face, Ulquiorra had flew to his place in less than a minute and had caught Pantera on his deathly grip, and before Grimmjow realized what was happening, his zanpakuto was broken in two.

"Fuck!"

Everything that happened next became nothing but a blur to him, receiving heavy blows to every part of his body. Grimmjow let himself be thrown here and there, because no matter how hard he tried, it couldn't raise his sword against Ulquiorra. Even though he kept on telling himself that it was just an illusion and that he had to fight to avenge the real one, he couldn't.

Grimmjow realized that he loved Ulquiorra so much.

**X - X - X – X**

Grimmjow closed his eyes, already feeling tired despite the fact that he had fought longer battles before. He didn't want to fight anymore, and that wasn't because his body was already giving up... but because his heart and mind could not take it anymore. As he tightened his grip on Pantera's oceanic hilt, he swallowed the lump on his throat and lifted his feet that weighed like a thousand pounds. His sight wavered as he opened them again, trying so hard to focus on the familiar form standing before him that was shamefully stained by the brightness of blood.

"Ulquiorra," he called out ever so faintly, running the broken blade of Pantera down the marble floor to support his buckling knees. His bright blue eyes were gradually being filled with dark spots, slowly devouring his consciousness from the very source of his life. He blinked for a couple of times, his eyes falling half close, trying in vain to keep all his functioning senses nailed to the mocking creatures before him. He looked at Ulquiorra, the slim and fragile form of the one he loved, and couldn't help but remember that...

Ulquiorra Schiffer was dead.

The barely awake Espada twisted his grip firmly on Pantera's hilt, cutting the thin skin on his palm with the roughness of it. He shook his head and gritted his teeth, taking all the energy he had left and forced all his pain and hatred to act as oil on his slowly dying fire of consciousness.

"DISAPPEAR!" He yelled at the very top of his lungs, his voice coming out hoarse and gruff. As he took in some air to fill his chest, bubbles of blood suddenly formed in his throat and blocked his air path. He fell down to his knees, unable to breath. Blood invaded his lungs and throat, making every breath completely agonizing. Soon all the blood that flooded his chest poured out of his lips, forcing him to fall over and hit his head on the floor.

Ulquiorra mentally flinched at the sight. The Sexta Espada was beyond recognizable, and considering all the blood he had lost... he was sure that Grimmjow wasn't so far away from his end. Those electric blue strands that only Grimmjow had looked as if they had faded, and his tanned skin looked even darker.

Was he fading away?

No. Grimmjow would not die as easily as that, or so he hoped.

Ulquiorra closed his eyes, turning away a little. Grimmjow's heavy breathing was filling his ears, and somehow it was sharing him the pain that coursed through the other man's body. It was torture to listen to it, and yet he couldn't find a reason to leave because all that there was... was a reason to stay. Because the fight was not over, because he was not ordered to leave, because his job was not yet done... because this, because that... because Aizen had not told him it was over, so it was still not over.

"Disappear." Grimmjow's unending prayer of broken whispers flooded the Cuatra Espada's senses, "Disappear. Disappear. Disappear. Disappear."

The Sexta Espada gritted his teeth, pushing himself from the floor to put himself upright. He was on his knees, his back barely supporting his posture as he tried his hardest to glare at the form of the Cuatra Espada which he believed to be nothing but an illusion, because how could that be real? The real one... the real one was already dead, he saw it with his own two eyes. There was blood even before Kyoka Suigetsu reached his own flesh, therefore... therefore...

Grimmjow screamed, and Ulquiorra could feel his pain through it. The Sexta Espada was severely weakened and had little energy left, but Grimmjow would not go down without a fight... at least for him, he had not fought hard enough. He had to avenge the one that died, and he would not stop until he did just that.

He charged forward, collecting every ounce of strength he had left, and charged to the brown-haired shinigami with the broken Pantera. It didn't matter what would happen to him even if he dies, at least he'd have nothing to regret. Or maybe then, he'd have a chance to correct everything with Ulquiorra... whichever it would be, however death would be to him... it really, really did not matter, because all that mattered was:

"Ulquiorra!"

The Cuatra Espada caught the broken zanpakuto with a bare hand, staring up the eyes of the other which was merely blue. It had darkened, almost out of life... and Ulquiorra couldn't say he was surprise. As much as he'd want to control his reiatsu, he couldn't because every time he tried, he could feel Aizen's own swarming all throughout the room ready to choke the both of them. Ulquiorra couldn't stop hitting him, and as selfish as it may sound, he was doing it for the both of their sakes. It didn't matter that Grimmjow understood or not, what matters is that they both go through this alive.

Grimmjow flew back to the far wall, his bones making an insane sound as he hit the smooth marble. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth in pain, blood spurting through his lips and skin. He fell down again to the ground, his eyes losing all focus despite his efforts. This time, he really was at his limit and even if he tries to collect all his reiatsu to make one large attack, he still wouldn't be able to make it. And then, his consciousness suddenly fled, letting all hismemories to resurface.

He remembered Ulquiorra pushing against his chest, whimpering as all strength seemed to have left his small body. He was kissing him then, forcefully and against his will, and if it continued it would be rape. He was glad that he didn't go too far that night, and then he realized that it was actually their first kiss. He didn't notice till now because it didn't really feel as good as he thought it would. Maybe because Ulquiorra was scared then, flailing and shivering under his touch. Maybe he shouldn't have done that. Yeah... he should've been gentler with him; then, maybe it would gain the significance of the first kiss.

If they could do it again, Grimmjow swore he would do it better. He would kiss him more gently just how a kiss should feel. He wouldn't hurt him as if wanting to devour everything, instead he would intertwine their fingers and he would tell him just how much he loved him.

Then there was that other night that Ulquiorra looked so hurt, the night he said that he wasn't a whore. Grimmjow wished he had held him then, made him feel better and assured him that whatever was happening was eventually going to be okay. Maybe that should've been the right moment for their first kiss. And the night that he confessed... he knew he should've treated him a lot more carefully. He shouldn't have let pride get the best of him, nor should he have raised his fists against him. He shouldn't have hit him... never should've hurt him.

If only. If only he could really do it all over again. He had done a lot of awful things, and maybe that was the reason why he was so much in pain right now. It was funny he only realized it now when it was already too late. There was so many things he did that he wished he didn't do, so many things he thought he should've done instead of not doing, but there was one thing he did that he liked.

He would never regret being Ulquiorra's savior even just for one night—the night that he couldn't fall asleep, the night that he so wanted to hold the Cuatra Espada tight and never ever let him go.

_Fuck._

Grimmjow's lips curled into a bitter smile.

_Am I going to die?_

**X - X - X – X**

Ulquiorra stared at the battered form of the Sexta Espada drenched in blood, tracing with his eyes every inch of wound that had been inflicted to the chiselled body. Over and over, he tried to count but then he would get lost in the big numbers. Just what kind of help had Aizen done for him?

He cast down his green eyes, staring at the marble floor that was shamefully stained by a person's blood. Ulquiorra didn't know what to think of right now. He came here because he heard Grimmjow scream his name, but as he was on his way to him, he heard Aizen call him as well. The moment he arrived to his destination, he assumed the position he always had in any circumstance, because he was an Espada above all else. Not the person Grimmjow brought out of him.

He closed his eyes and returned to his human-form, sheathing his sword gracefully. He had enough of this.

Grimmjow's chest heaved, the enormous gash in his chest bled in every movement. He lifted himself off the floor up to his hands and knees and tried his hardest to incline his head to reveal his eyes which was merely alive. His once beautiful eyes had now gone dark, and he could barely see what was before him but he knew that somewhere close to him stood Aizen.

"...wait." came his gruff voice echoing and reaching the Cuatra Espada's ears. He laid his empty eyes on him even though he could barely make out the stoic man's face, because he was sure who it was. With the small built and stern posture, he would never mistake it for anyone else, but the fact that the real one was already gone did not leave the back of his mind. He already missed Ulquiorra, and he wished that he had the chance to save him. But the only thing that was left now was the image of him produced by the shinigami's zanpakuto, and no other trace of his existence.

Ulquiorra was gone, and we would never get tired of regretting everything he had and had not done.

_Grimmjow,_ Ulquiorra turned around as emotionlessly as possible and stared at the supposed corpse swimming in blood struggling to stand. He met his eyes and the way they looked made his chest tighten, almost making it hard to breath. As much as it hurt him, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the shivering form. He kept on telling himself that it was his fault, despite the fact that it killed him. He just... couldn't deny the guilt.

Those blue orbs were glaring at him although they held no weight and life. Grimmjow was hardly conscious, and yet there he was: gripping the hilt of his broken zanpakuto tightly and staggering to put up his battle stance even as he was down on his knees. He was struggling with his weakness to fight, because more than anything else, he wanted to avenge the Ulquiorra who died before his eyes.

_Enough, Grimmjow._ He wanted to say out loud, but he couldn't. He knew he wasn't permitted to say it, so instead he took Murcielago from its confines once again and pointed it at Grimmjow's blood drenched chest, hoping that Grimmjow would see how impossible it was for him to win the fight. As Ulquiorra's green eyes rolled down, he noticed the Sexta's Espada's hand, bleeding from the tightness of its grip on the rough hilt of Pantera, and when he returned his eyes on Grimmjow's eyes, he read his bruised lips calling his name and asking for strength. Grimmjow's helpless calling for his help almost drove him insane, and it made him remember the promised he had made: _"I'll protect you, Grimmjow."_

But what was he doing now? Was he protecting him? No, he was not. He could justify it if he tried, but he wouldn't. He knew what he was doing, and it was certainly not anything like protecting. Ulquiorra was following orders of Aizen, not protecting. He was hurting him. Hurting, hurting, hurting and killing him. Not protecting. Killing.

Ulquiorra was almost convinced that he could cry from his heart, but he remembered that he didn't have one.

Grimmjow reached out, wrapping his fingers around Murcielago's sharp blade, and snapped Ulquiorra out of his deep thoughts. He froze from his spot, shiver crawling all over his body, and his eyes grew wide. Grimmjow was smiling at him, the very first smile he ever saw. It was not a grin, a smirk, or anything malicious. Although those green eyes were half-closed and empty, this was the sweetest smile Grimmjow ever gave him, and... it made him cry.

Tears fell down his cheeks and it made him drop his sword just to feel them with his fingers. He couldn't believe it, but he did feel them with his fingertips. The warm tears overflowed from the depths of his cold heart, and it were all for Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez. Every single drop was for him, for the love they could not share, and for that time that Ulquiorra said that he did not love him, because it was all far too late to change anything.

The smile on Grimmjow's lips faded, as if he wanted to ask why Ulquiorra was crying and tell him to stop, but he was not conscious enough to form words. The Sexta Espada was simply able to move only because of instinct and his instinct told him to cup Ulquiorra's cheek and so he did, but as soon as his fingertips felt the cold skin, consciousness left his body completely. Grimmjow was again down on his pool of blood.

His eyes were wide open, staring at the assumed lifeless body of Grimmjow, and still he wept. He cried for all those times he didn't know he could, for all those times he would never have again with the person he swore to protect. He wanted to fall down to his knees or run away, but he was too hurt to do anything but freeze.

Ulquiorra wished he didn't do the things that he did, wished that he had done everything differently. He yelled at himself mentally, blaming his self for Grimmjow's pain and for his own. He shouldn't have listened, shouldn't have fallen in love with him. He was regretting everything and maybe it was the only thing he did right. Grimmjow did not deserve to suffer for his sake, Ulquiorra should've been the one lying in his blood, because Grimmjow did not do anything wrong.

_What have I done?_

Grimmjow saved him, but in return, he hurt him.

_I... shouldn't have._

Grimmjow said he loved him, ready to return his feelings if only Ulquiorra admitted that he felt the same. Was this how he pays his debt to the one who saved him from his nightmares? By hurting him? By trying to kill him? No, he did not try... he did think of killing him. He did it without anything in mind but protecting the one who only made him suffer. He fought his supposed savior to protect his killer.

_He's not supposed to die._

If only he had restricted his emotions, if only he had not hoped for a change, then neither of them would've been in this situation. Why did he have to look for something like this? Couldn't had he been satisfied with how things were before this? How could he be so stupid? He fought his only source of hope, the only one who made him felt right, and the only one who loved him... for real and for who he was—for everything that he was.

_Grimmjow,_

Murcielago slid out of his grip, as if the zanpakuto itself was also asking him to stop.

_Stand up._

A pair of cold hands slid up from his waist to his shoulders, but Ulquiorra did not need to look back to know whose it was. He had known those hands for so long, and if only they were just a little bit warmer...

"Look at what you've made him do, Ulquiorra. Look at what you've turned him into."

Grimmjow was once a strong warrior, deft and unbeatable. He was invincible and feared by everyone. He would not bow down, would not accept defeat against anyone, and he would never ever put down his guard, but he opened his gates to him and him only. Grimmjow and held Ulquiorra so close that his heart could be stabbed without difficulties. Grimmjow softened, even smiled at him. He did all these awful things to Grimmjow, someone who didn't deserve them.

_Stand up, Grimmjow._

The Sexta Espada wouldn't have been in this situation if it weren't for him. He didn't need to hear it from Aizen or from anyone else to know, because he knew, within himself, that he was the one who brought this kind of end to the both of them. As much as he'd want to deny it, as much as he'd want to say that he was just another victim, he knew he had no right to.

"Do you know why he still hasn't let go of his zanpakuto?" Aizen planted a soft kiss just below his ear, flinching when he felt his lord's muscle slide over his pale neck. "Did you know that he watched you die for over ten times?"

_"DISAPPEAR!"_ Grimmjow's voice echoed in his ear, reminding him how much those blue eyes were weeping as it look at him throughout their fight. "_You're nothing but a lie!"_

"And every single time, he cried... still believing that it was you who cried out to him, asking why he was not saved. You should've seen the look on his face.

"He kept on fighting even though he always failed... even though he knew that he would fail. It is because of you that he is like this, that he is weakened and so close to death. What were you thinking, Ulquiorra?"

Aizen slowly walked away, the smile on his face not even hidden. His white coat fluttered behind him to mark his trail, following him as he strode out of the Sexta's bloodied and shattered quarters. He pulled the door behind him, looking at the Cuatra's frozen figure from the open space until it closed with a soft thud.

"Gin," he softly whispered, the silver-haired lieutenant suddenly walking out of the dark corner with the usual smile on his face. "You didn't have to do that."

"Maa~ there was nothin' else ta do... and ya seemed ta be really havin' some very big fun." the fox-faced shinigami explained, scratching the back of his head like a kid caught red-handed. "'Sides, doesn't seem that ya mind."

"I didn't say that I do." The lord of Las Noches turned, casting his eyes on his second-in-command with a growing smile on his thin lips. "I only wished to say that I will have you to blame if this does not go the way that it should. Ulquiorra didn't appear to be taking this well."

Gin watched his captain walk away, having no other choice but to follow a few steps behind. "But I thought ya didn't mind..."

The voices faded away until they were no longer reached by Ulquiorra's sharp hearing. The tears stopped falling from his eyes while the ones on his cheeks had already dried, no one there to see and wipe them away. He knelt down, taking his zanpakuto and putting it back to its sheathe. He reached down to touch Grimmjow's face, feeling only coldness against his skin.

_I thought I was protecting you, Grimmjow._

* * *

**FEN:** If a lot of things didn't make sense, please tell me. I'm not that good in English, and another excuse is that I'm having problems with the uploader. I tried to upload it a lot of times, and it would either show up an error or it would get uploaded only that the lines are jumbled up or they will vanish. Anyway, did I do well? Only one chapter left, so let's play another game! Guess: happy or sad ending? Would they get back together or not? If you know me... and Chiharu, then it's going to be easy for you to answer that. 8D

BTW, **Luckless-is-me** almost got it right.

**~~~ A reply to a review:  
Question**: I couldn't really differentiate between memories and what was actually happening. Especially the last part. Were all the Ulquiorra's Kyoka Suigetsu?  
**Fen:** Yep, and about the memories/flashbacks, they start from the first block of bold words up to the next. Another one starts after another set up until the next.


	9. Final Secret

**TITLE:** Our Greatest Secret  
**AUTHOR:** Fen Jien Ren**  
**

**ANIME: **Bleach  
**DISCLAIMERS:** Tite Kubo owns Bleach and all its characters.

**SUMMARY:** Grimmjow offers to teach Ulquiorra the things that the Cuatra regarded as unnecessary.  
**WARNINGS:** Yaoi.  
**PAIRING/S and CHARACTERS: **GrimmUlqui, Ichimaru Gin, Sousuke Aizen

* * *

**FINAL SECRET**

**

* * *

**

**ULQUIORRA SCHIFFER**  
point of view

Ulquiorra knelt down to the ground, carefully collecting the blood-stained limbs of the Sexta Espada onto his arms. He pulled the man's head to his chest and held him there for a while. He pressed his cheek to Grimmjow's hair and looked away, eyes half open in deep contemplation. He remembered the way Grimmjow had smiled at him a few minutes before the man completely lost consciousness, and he wondered if he would be able to see it again. In truth, he wanted to, but he being worthy or unworthy of it was out of the question. He didn't want to think with any reason at the moment, because he knew that everything falls down to one and he didn't like it.

Green eyes fell close, resting.

_I thought I was protecting you, Grimmjow._

He pondered more for a while, thought back of the things he wished that didn't happen. He loved the way their fingers interlace, the odd rush of coldness that would spread from his chest, leaving him to wonder just where it came and why it did. He didn't have a heart, he was sure, but where else would it come from? He had no clue, no proof. Without Grimmjow, only questions were what Ulquiorra had and lost was what he was.

"_DISAPPEAR!!"_ Grimmjow's gruff yell resounded in his head; the desperate swinging of Pantera clearly visible beneath his closed eyes. He remembered the confusion and helplessness that flooded those blue eyes along with tears, and he hoped he had seen what Aizen was planning before hand. He would've come sooner, and Grimmjow wouldn't have to go through the pain and the burden of seeing him die only God knows how many times. It must've been really awful, Ulquiorra could only imagine.

He hated it: the fact that he could've come sooner. He really could've and he would've saved Grimmjow from everything. Ichimaru was telling him to come, that was why the man came knocking on his door with that mocking concern lacing his voice. The silver-haired lieutenant helped him somehow if only for the entertainment, but it was help nonetheless.

"_Aizen-taichou ain't nice, Cuatra-chan."_

If only he listened.

"_Ya tellin' me it ain't my business, but if I were ya... I'd be glad I made it mine."_

But still, what good would it do when he was sure that he would've done things the same that he did when he arrived? If he arrived sooner, would he point his zanpakuto to Aizen instead of Grimmjow? Would he fight his lord for a lowly adjuchas? Now that he thought about it, he could but he will not.

Why?

_I'm sorry._

Because he is an Espada—a broken piece of something or nothing, a shattered piece of a mirror which a human used to look himself at, a forgotten portion of a worthless being without a heart, but most of all, he was, being an Arrancar, nothing more than a tool for war and destruction... some_thing_ incapable of feeling and devoid of a heart, of his own mind, but then, can someone tell him why just where this feeling on his chest was coming from.

Ulquiorra rose up, securing the unconscious Espada in his arms, and strode to the unmade bed in the far corner of the once sterile white room. He laid him down as gently as he could, repositioning the limbs once Grimmjow was comfortably lying. He brushed his fingers against the curves of the Sexta Espada's arm, feeling the roughness of dried blood with his cold, naked skin. When he turned his hands to his face, the blood that should've been gone was still there, mocking him with their existence and the fact that it was not his own. Perhaps it was guilt that kept him from tearing his emerald eyes away from the deathly crimson liquid.

"_I love you, Ulquiorra."_ Grimmjow once confessed, _"Please, say you feel the same."_

Hearing these words all over again made those strange creatures underneath his skin crawl all over his freezing body and the distant voices in his head began whispering. The voices were of Grimmjow, and the fact that they were not blaming him made him feel even worse. He raised his hands to his ears, hoping that it would block away the sounds, but unfortunately, it didn't manage to do a thing.

"_I always thought it was impossible, but then... you taught me what I was supposed to teach you."_

Ulquiorra went down, bending his knees to a crouching position. His fingers almost dug themselves in his skull. He didn't want to hear anything anymore. The pain should've left when Aizen did, but why was it going on and on? He didn't want it anymore! He knew what he did. It was his fault, he was aware, and if he needed to say it out loud, he would. He didn't have any plans of running away; he wasn't one who denies the truth, so he didn't need any more of this... but why does it go on?

"_Ulquiorra, I..."_

"Silence." The Cuatra Espada weakly muttered, screwing his eyes shut. He gritted his teeth, tightening his hold on his aching head even more. He hoped the strange feeling would go if he cuts his connection to the world, but when he closed his eyes, more tormenting images raced in his mind. There was Grimmjow fighting, bleeding... dying, and then the one when those blue eyes were weeping. Ulquiorra continued to shake his head and shiver all over. He had enough of it. How many times does he have to say it?

_Stop it._

Then there was Grimmjow puking his blood out while Murcielago was smoothly sliding through his abdomen, the merciful crimson drug spraying all over Ulquiorra's pale skin. The way Grimmjow's face twisted in pain was the hardest thing to forget about, and the rush of his own blood as his ears absorbed the guttural cry and hopeless breathing of the one he claimed he loved.

_I didn't mean it._

"_Ulquiorra..."_ the way those oceanic blue eyes wept as his name rolled out of those dry lips, it was something so painful to remember, but there was one thing even worst than the regret he felt that wrapped itself around his chest... and that was the way Grimmjow fell down without anymore life with a smile on his face as if saying, _"I still love you."_

It was the reason why his emerald eyes remembered how to cry...

"_I will wait for you until you return these words to me."_

...the reason he found his lost heart...

"_It doesn't matter how long."_

...but the fact that he didn't deserve this much love...

"_I will always love you. With everything I have left..."_

...made him feel even worse.

"_I promise this to you."_

**xxx**

Days came and went, Ulquiorra stayed by Grimmjow's side: spending sleepless nights and all the energy he had left to prepare himself for the waking once more of the Sexta Espada. He was sitting on the ground by the white bed, staring at his dark fingernails which edges were crying blood. He had just finished scrubbing the room clean, and to be hurt by such a simple task was absolutely stupid. Perhaps he didn't have any reiatsu left to keep his hierro up. Not that he was thinking that needed it at the moment, though. It was just customary for someone as high ranked as he was to have their defences held up at all times.

He sighed, intertwining his fingers exactly how Grimmjow used to intertwine theirs together. It didn't feel right, he felt incomplete just as how it was when Aizen would embrace him and make love to him. There was no warmth just as he was when left all alone. Without Grimmjow, he truly was nothing. Without Grimmjow, he was a creature with no purpose... although he being a creature alone was something he was even needed to be reassured of now, because he felt so empty. So very lonely.

_Grimmjow._

How long had it been since he walked outside that door? Ulquiorra couldn't remember, because he hadn't left ever since, but he knew it had been long. Very, very long... and Grimmjow was bound to wake up soon. Now that he thought about it, what was he going to do when Grimmjow wakes up? Or the better question to ask himself is: was he ready to face him?

His head sunk down in between his folded knees near his chest, and then he began contemplating. It was true that he wasn't ready, but he thought it wasn't too late to prepare himself. What would he do? What would he say? Would he explain to Grimmjow that he didn't have any choice? That Aizen had forced him into a corner where he couldn't do anything but hurt him? Would he tell the truth that he was plainly confused? Or would he tell him nothing instead?

"_Cuatra-chan, Aizen-taicho..."_

The way things were now, it was obvious that his lord was against such bond. Who was he kidding? Aizen owns him after all, both mind and body... soul and body. It was kind of painful that he knew it, and that he would openly admit it if his lord wills it. He really shouldn't have dragged Grimmjow into this, but going back to his present problem... what would he tell him?

_I... I will..._

Ulquiorra felt that odd rush again from his chest, but decided to ignore it for now. He looked up and leaned his head back to the edge of the soft bed. He started to reassess things... all things that were involved in his, his lord's, and Grimmjow's life. He wouldn't want to find himself and Grimmjow in such a mess again.

_I..._

He continued to think, deeper and deeper each minute. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. What was it that he truly wanted to say?

_I don't know._

Ulquiorra sighed, standing up and turning to the showers to take a relaxing bath. He couldn't remember when the last time he had one as well. He was too preoccupied with stabilizing Grimmjow's health and erasing the remnants of the most painful battle he over fought. He peeled off his clothes and then walked in the showers, twisting the knob until the almost sizzling water sprayed all over his naked back.

He shuddered at the sudden feeling of pain, but he knew it was nothing compared to what Grimmjow felt. Because what Grimmjow went through was something that could never be relieved even if he cried it out through a hundred nights, but now was really not the time to think of it anymore. He should learn better than to destroy the progress he had so far when it came to actually _moving on_. What happened was truly regrettable, but fretting over it for the rest of his life was not going to take him anywhere... nor would it bring back everything to the way they originally were.

After a while, he walked out, shuddering when the cold winds caressed his burnt skin. He closed his eyes and sucked in his breath, but he stood still. When he reopened his eyes, he tried to ignore the awkward feeling and went on as normally as he could. He bent down to pick up his old clothes he dispersed by Grimmjow's closet, but he ended up gripping at something else.

He blinked. There was a long slim sleeve that trailed to the lowest drawer, and when he pulled it out further, he realized that it was his shattered uniform.

"_Use my clothes for a while..."_

That night... how could he forget? That wasn't the first time they kissed, but somehow he still remembered it like it was one of the most precious things that happened in his life. He was still scared of Grimmjow touching him then, and this was because the Sexta's hands felt exactly like Aizen's... which later became unbelievably soft and warm. He also had the awkward chance to be in Grimmjow's uniform, and it was quite a scene now that he thought about it.

"_It suits you."_

Ulquiorra pulled the ripped shirt to his nose, breathing in. _It smells like him now._

**xxx**

More days passed, and still Ulquiorra was left there in one corner of the white room mulling over the things he would like Grimmjow to know. He watched the man's chest heave in every breath so very closely as if he would find his answers there. Sometimes he would hold Grimmjow's hand for no reason; sometimes he would lie there beside him, but most of the time he would talk like he was facing someone conscious, practicing the rolling of his explanation turned into words on his tongue. It didn't feel strange like he initially thought it would, telling Grimmjow what he feels that is.

"Grimmjow," he started, gazing at the peacefully resting form of the blue-haired Espada, "I hope to let you know..."

_Hope?_ When did he ever felt hope? What was he talking about? Ulquiorra sighed, sliding his hands to his pockets, and decided to start all over. He breathed in, replaying in his mind the words he would want Grimmjow to hear, but before he was able to prepare himself for it... Grimmjow's reaitsu spiked, signalling the imminent waking of the Espada.

Emerald eyes grew wide, staring at the shifting form of the almost fully recovered Grimmjow.

_What am I going to say to you?_

Coldness swarmed all over Ulquiorra's body, reviving the odd creatures beneath his skin.

"Grimmjow, I..."

Blue eyes slowly opened, blinking a few times to fight the glare of the fake sunlight peeking through the small windows. He groaned and sat up, wrapping an arm around his abdomen to support his still recovering fractures. Nausea hit his head once he was upright, forcing him to close his eyes and moan in discomfort.

Ulquiorra's breath hitched, fear and pressure all rushing back to him so swiftly. He reached out his hand, shaking... growing cold with painful anticipation and all other things, but perhaps, above all the feuding emotions in his entire being was the guilt and the fear itself of being rejected and hated.

"Grimmjow..." he weakly called, almost unheard... and Grimmjow barely did. He turned to it nonetheless; the Sexta Espada's throbbing heat whipping to the where he thought he heard someone call his name. And to his surprise, his oceanic eyes growing wide, there was no body there to even make a sound.

Ulquiorra Schiffer, the Cuatra Espada, had fled.

* * *

**GRIMMJOW JAEGERJAQUEZ**  
point of view

Grimmjow sat up, nausea hitting his head like a mallet. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut in search for relief, and twisted around so he could dangle his legs at the edge of his bed. His blue eyes slowly reopened themselves, squinting and blinking a few times to fight the strain given by the fake light seeping through his windows. His body later began to ache, crying out for more movements to compensate for the long period of rest.

"Fuck." He moaned in discomfort, rubbing his temples in circles.

"_...Grimmjow."_

He lifted his head, looking around his quarters, and found himself alone. Not such a surprising fact, but... somehow, he wished that Ulquiorra would be there to greet him or even just a sign that he was there. The voice he heard, the faint whisper, he swore it was Ulquiorra's... but he couldn't be too sure. Because of his encounter with Aizen, he didn't know if he could be sure with anything anymore.

"I'm hearing things again." He muttered under his breath, staring down at his naked feet. There were tiny slashes and bruises, perhaps part of the aftermath of his battle against Aizen... and Ulquiorra. Now that everything was over and seemingly back to normal, he guessed it was the perfect time to investigate some stuff. He had a lot of questions, but the most important question residing in his mind was if Ulquiorra was alive or truly dead.

He stood up and headed to take his bath, peeling off his pure white uniform. He suddenly stopped. Wait, _pure white?_ Grimmjow turned to face a mirror that reached the floor and the high ceiling. He looked at himself, his blue eyes grazing his figure. There were many scars, some still fresh wounds, and some fading bruises, but what should've been there above all else was non-existent.

There was no blood. Not a drop. Not a trace.

_Ulquiorra._ He looked down to his hand, somehow they felt so warm... and strange, as if someone was holding them still. Was this a proof that Ulquiorra was alive and had been taking care of him until just a few minutes ago? Or was this another madness that Aizen produced with his zanpakuto? Grimmjow couldn't tell. A big part of him was hoping that it wasn't just an illusion, but a bigger part of him was also scared to cling to this hope.

He closed his hand, turning them into fists. His body had been aching and the battle wounds were there, so at least he could say that the battle did happen. What happened during the fight, though, that he still couldn't believe. Grimmjow continued to take his bath, and decided to clear everything out after once and for all.

After a while, he walked out of the bath. His hair and whole body dripping wet. He headed to his closed at rummaged through his clothes. He took out the usual white uniform with a scowl, not that there was any other selection but he hoped Aizen would at least give them a break from the boringness of the stupid white.

The Sexta Espada continued to head out, brushing his hair with his fingers until they were dry and up to their usual messy spikes. He strode down the hall, closely observing every corner of Las Noches. Nothing felt odd. Everything was just as they always had been, but it didn't answer any of his questions especially the one that matter the most. So, he went on and on and on, until he found that familiar figure walking down the hall.

_Ulquiorra!_

A strange sensation flooded him, coldness crawling swiftly over his skin but it felt somewhat good. He quickened his pace and did not stop until he felt those slim body trapped in the middle of his limbs. He pulled him into his chest, embracing him as his heart continued to race in excitement.

"You're alive." Grimmjow whispered, his voice almost breaking in weakness due to indescribable glee. When Ulquiorra did not say anything, it didn't bother him and he even held him tighter as if Ulquiorra would disappear if he even thinks of letting go. He buried his face on the raven tresses, rubbing his cheek lovingly against it.

"Grimmjow,"

"Just let me hold you." He muttered, holding him even tighter if it was still possible. He leaned down further, his neck almost hurting by how much he bent it to reach Ulquiorra's shoulder but nothing else mattered. Grimmjow didn't want anything else to matter. "Just for a little longer."

"I think it has been long enough."

"Don't run away." Grimmjow whispered weakly. "If I let you go, don't disappear."

"I don't see any need to." He raised his hands, putting them in between their chests, and pushed a little. "Let go now."

"And don't die."

Ulquiorra lost his words, and it took him more minutes than he should've wasted in thinking of an answer. "I will not."

Albeit reluctantly, the Sexta Espada slowly loosened his hold and stepped away. He kept his eyes in contact with Ulquiorra's beautiful emeralds, and raised a hand to cup the small face. He trailed the green tear tracks with his thumb, hardly remembering the time that Ulquiorra wept just before he lost consciousness.

"What is it that you want, Grimmjow?" the Cuatra sternly asked, slapping away the hand that cupped his cheek gently. "If it is a fight that you want, go annoy the Quinta or the Decima. I do not have the time to spend on you..."

Grimmjow's eyes grew wide. Something was wrong.

"Trash."

Very, very wrong.

**xxx**

He was frantic, and as shameful as it was to admit... there was nothing else that could describe what he was feeling at the moment. The very second Ulquiorra pushed him away and left him there dumbfounded in the middle of the white pristine halls, he rushed back to his room, desperate to find a trace of the nights he spent with Ulquiorra. He turned all the furniture over, broke his things, scraped the walls and floors, and now, he had only one hope left.

Ulquiorra's ripped uniform.

He rummaged through his closet with gritted teeth, not caring if he was to destroy his own clothes in the process to find it. It was the only one left and the thing he treasure the most. Grimmjow was so sure he kept it here, but where was it?

_Where is it?!_

He continued to search, his eyes started to sting... he wanted it to be true. He was begging it to be true!

_I'll give up every damn thing I have... just let me fucking find it!_

Everything he went through, every smiles and stupid idea Ulquiorra had that he laughed at... he wanted it to be a memory.

_Where the fucking hell is it?!_

Every tear he saw the Cuatra Espda shed, he wanted them to be real.

_Fucking give it to me!_

But even how much he wished, no matter how much he wanted it... it didn't seem to be true. He couldn't find Ulquiorra's uniform anywhere, and it only meant one thing: none of it really happened.

_No!_

But still, he couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop and give up. Grimmjow wasn't ready to believe that he was fooled, that he didn't learned to be happy with Ulquiorra, and that he fell in love with nothing more than a dream. The crystals that formed in his eyes began to crawl down, going through the same path Ulquiorra's tears had in his dreams—the tears that were for him. And now he was crying the tears that were for the other.

_Ulquiorra..._

For the both of them...

_What have you done to me?_

...and for the love that had never really been there.

* * *

I was tempted to even split this into two chapters, but I realized that I have already told everyone that this will be the last, so... lucky you. Anyway, if you are unsure... **everything really did happen**. Ulquiorra just didn't want to hurt Grimmjow anymore, and yes, this is really the end for **Our Greatest Secret**. And did you know that Grimmjow is forgetting to check one last thing? He lent Ulquiorra his own uniform the same night he got Ulquiorra's, do you remember? (Check **chapter three**.) I didn't mention anything about Ulquiorra returning it, now did I? :)

Thank you to all my readers! Thank you to **ChiharuSato22** for being a great beta even for a short period, and thank you to the nice reviewers like **Ririn**,** Horsesrulee12**,** Freakyaoifan**,, **luckless-is-me**, and many more others! Thank you to **Beppin14** for also being awesome in beta'ing some chapters of this fic. I also would want to thank **Dior Crystal** and **Ravefirell** for not only reading this, but also for creating the best and most active **GrimmUlquiFC** evaaaar~

**Sequel?** I don't know. There's a big chance that I would do a continuation story, but I'm not promising anything. If ever, it would most likely revolve around Grimmjow's promise and I think it would and could last up to six chapters... but I'm never really a consistent one. What I am only sure of is that there will still be angst (as always).

As always, feedbacks are golden. You can also throw in your opinion about the possible sequel.

With overflowing internet love,  
Fen~ ;3


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